Your whole body holds a stemmed glass of gentle sweetness destined for me...by Pablo Neruda

Your whole body holds
a stemmed glass 
of gentle sweetness 
destined for me.

When I let my hand climb,
in each place I find a dove
that was looking for me, as if
my love, they had made you of clay
for my very own potter’s hands.

Your knees, 
your breasts,
your waist,
are missing in me, 
like in the hollow
of a thirsting earth

where they relinquished
a form,
and together

we are complete like one single river,
like one single grain of sand.

~ Pablo Neruda, “The Potter”