Martine Quinn

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The Worst Hard Time by Timothy Egan
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Glow by Jessica Maria Tuccelli
Glow
by Jessica Maria Tuccelli (Goodreads Author)
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The Restorer by Amanda Stevens
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Angel Condemned by Mary Stanton
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Angel's Verdict by Mary Stanton
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Avenging Angels by Mary Stanton
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Angel's Advocate by Mary Stanton
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Defending Angels by Mary Stanton
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More of Martine's books…
Pablo Neruda
“Love.

Because of you, in gardens of blossoming
Flowers I ache from the perfumes of spring.
I have forgotten your face, I no longer
Remember your hands; how did your lips
Feel on mine?

Because of you, I love the white statues
Drowsing in the parks, the white statues that
Have neither voice nor sight.

I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice;
I have forgotten your eyes.

Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to
My vague memory of you. I live with pain
That is like a wound; if you touch me, you will
Make to me an irreperable harm.

Your caresses enfold me, like climbing
Vines on melancholy walls.

I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to
Glimpse you in every window.

Because of you, the heady perfumes of
Summer pain me; because of you, I again
Seek out the signs that precipitate desires:
Shooting stars, falling objects.”
Pablo Neruda

Pablo Neruda
“I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.”
Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets

Pablo Neruda
“so I wait for you like a lonely house
till you will see me again and live in me.
Till then my windows ache.”
Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets

Pablo Neruda
“I don't want to go on being a root in the dark,
vacillating, stretched out, shivering with sleep,
downward, in the soaked guts of the earth,
absorbing and thinking, eating each day.”
Pablo Neruda

Pablo Neruda
“I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
Like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.”
Pablo Neruda

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