by Pablo Neruda
I would like to sleep like a cat
with all the hairs of time,
with the tongue of flint
with the dry sex of fire
and after speaking with no one
to stretch myself over the whole world,
over the roof tiles and the ground,
intensely determined
to go hunting the rats of dreams
***
I'm still on my Neruda book, and that particular verse, has rodents in it. I just have to.
The other guys on the other blog got theirs already last week. This one is to start a fresh week.
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