i love you…

i love you without knowing how, or when, or from where
i love you simply, without problems or pride:
i love you in this way because I don’t know any other way of loving
but this,
in which there is no I, or you,
so intimate that you hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.

Pablo Neruda

SonnetXVII (excerpt)

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