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Leaning Into The Afternoons

 Leaning into the afternoons,
I cast my sad nets towards your oceanic eyes.
There, in the highest blaze my solitude lengthens and flames; Its arms turning like a drowning man's.
I send out red signals across your absent eyes That wave like the sea, or the beach by a lighthouse.
You keep only darkness my distant female; >From your regard sometimes, the coast of dread emerges.
Leaning into the afternoons, I fling my sad nets to that sea that is thrashed By your oceanic eyes.
The birds of night peck at the first stars That flash like my soul when I love you.
The night, gallops on its shadowy mare Shedding blue tassels over the land.

by Pablo Neruda
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