lots of rambling // nobody asked but i need to share these middle verses from a poem of Aleixandre's. going thru it.

Come like two eyes or two profound solitudes,

two compelling callings of a depth that i do not know.

Come, come death, love; come soon, or i'll destroy you,

come, for i want to kill or love or die or give you everything;

Southerners and their passions... Irrevocable... I am in awe... Forever... I translated it ages ago... But OAUGH... Viscerally, romantically, philosophically, spiritually; I am touched... Touched forevermore... By these FOUR verses... FOUR... FOUR... Madman of a poet you are, Aleixandre... Barbaric... Your love is barbaric, your love is Spanish... Bring it elsewhere. For a minute. Because I'm about to cry.