Tengo hambre de tu boca, de tu voz, de tu pelo / y por las calles voy sin nutrirme, callado, / no me sostiene el pan, el alba me desquicia, / busco el sonido líquido de tus pies en el día.
from Love Sonnet XI by Pablo Neruda
English translation by Stephen Tapscott:
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.
Sunday Sentence: The sentence(s) that touched me this week, out of context and without commentary. Inspired by David Abrams at The Quivering Pen.