Love Sonnet II
after Pablo Neruda
My love overpowers even that you do not love me.
As you slip away into cool acres of forest light,
know that I seep through your sweater and see
under your skin, into your soul, and that I rejoice.
Happy as a poppy farmer slitting his bulbs at dawn,
I walk the rows of your being with my razor,
extracting from your eyes, your laughter, your light:
the leaked colors of night, the dripping moon,
the sun impaled and bleeding on a mountain peak.
You do not know it but you secrete yourself
at my table and I gather you in little jars at your feet.
Though you resist me with the vehemence of lakes,
I will rain and rain until I flood and flood you
and it will be your love that overflows at my feet.
By Ryan Dowling