You, my friend, could be the smoke’s daughter, you who may not have known you were born of fire and rage, lightning over flaming lava etched your violet mouth, your sex in the scorched oak’s moss like a ring in a nest, your fingers there in the flames, your compact bodyrose from leaves of fire that make me recallthere were bakers in your family tree, you’re still the rainforest’s bread, ash from violent wheat, .Pablo Neruda
About This Quote
She was born of fire and rage, lightning over flaming lava etched her violet mouth, her sex in the scorched oak’s moss like a ring in a nest, her fingers there in the flames, her compact body rose from leaves of fire that make me recall there were bakers in her family tree, she’s still the rainforest’s bread, ash from violent wheat.
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