Speaking of Neruda, this is one of my favorite poems by him. I have it memorized and hanging on my wall in my bedroom.

Love- Pablo Neruda

    What's wrong with you, with us, 
    what's happening to us? 
    Ah our love is a harsh cord 
    that binds us wounding us 
    and if we want 
    to leave our wound, 
    to separate, 
    it makes a new knot for us and condemns us 
    to drain our blood and burn together.
    
    What's wrong with you? I look at you 
    and I find nothing in you but two eyes 
    like all eyes, a mouth 
    lost among a thousand mouths that I have kissed, more beautiful, 
    a body just like those that have slipped 
    beneath my body without leaving any memory.
        
    And how empty you went through the world 
    like a wheat-colored jar 
    without air, without sound, without substance! 
    I vainly sought in you 
    depth for my arms 
    that dig, without cease, beneath the earth: 
    beneath your skin, beneath your eyes, 
    nothing, 
    beneath your double breast scarcely 
    raised 
    a current of crystalline order 
    that does not know why it flows singing. 
    Why, why, why, 
    my love, why?