pablo neruda

• your feet
  
  when i cannot look at your face
  i look at your feet.
  your feet of arched bone,
  your hard little feet.
  i know that they support you,
  and that your sweet weight
  rises upon them.
  your waist and your breasts,
  the doubled purple
  of your nipples,
  the sockets of your eyes
  that have just flown away,
  your wide fruit mouth,
  your red tresses,
  my little tower.
  but i love your feet
  only because they walked
  upon the earth and upon
  the wind and upon the waters,
  until they found me.