Love Sonnet XI

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.

Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. 
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day 
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps. 

I hunger for your sleek laugh, 
Your hands the color of a savage harvest, 
Hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails, 
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond. 

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body, 
The sovereign nose of your arrogant face, 
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes, 

And I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight, 
Hunting for you, for your hot heart, 
Like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.

Poem by  Pablo Neruda