Potter - Poem by Pablo Neruda

Your whole body hasa fullness or a gentleness destined for me.

When I move my hand upI find in each place a dovethat was seeking me, asif they had, love, made you of clayfor my own potter's hands.

Your knees, your breasts,your waistare missing parts of me like the hollowof a thirsty earthfrom which they broke offa form,and togetherwe are complete like a single river,like a single grain of sand.

Pablo Neruda