Over your breasts of motionless current, over your legs of firmness and water, over the permanence and the pride of your naked hair I want to be, my … - Pablo Neruda

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Over your breasts of motionless current,
over your legs of firmness and water,
over the permanence and the pride
of your naked hair
I want to be, my love, now that the tears are
thrown
into the raucous baskets where they accumulate,
I want to be, my love, alone with a syllable
of mangled silver, alone with a tip
of your breast of snow.