I Crave Your Mouth, Your Voice, Your Hair
DON’T GO FAR OFF, NOT EVEN FOR A DAY
Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —
because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.
Don’t leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
into me, choking my lost heart.
Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;
may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.
Don’t leave me for a second, my dearest,
because in that moment you’ll have gone so far
I’ll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying? -Pablo Neruda
Pablo Neruda- Chilean poet, electrified and changed the world with his poetry. He was a favorite of my grandfathers (both living in Chile during the oppressive rule of dictator Pinochet). As February approaches— I always find myself in a writing frenzy and a self-imposed solitude. I look to find the words that connect me back to the time in my life where I felt safe in the shelter of my mothers arms, and look to slough of the anger that builds from missing her so dearly (it has now been twenty years since I last saw her face). So I look to comfort myself with the forgotten familiar— the smell of my grandfather’s art studio, the taste of green chile, and pine nuts, listening to absurd amounts of Classical music (the sounds of my childhood, one of financial poverty, Classical music gave me a sense of royalty, pomp, and circumstance). I visualize mesas, watercolored sunsets, and the Rio Grande River. I use this time to gather strength and to refocus what is most important to me in my life—creativity and family. Beso- Maya
