a poem for old lovers Leave a reply I’ve been reading Neruda. You’ll have no idea what that even means, but I stare at his words, and I think here’s a man who would get me, and then I remember, he’s dead. Share this:Tweet Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit Share on Tumblr Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email More Click to print (Opens in new window) Print PocketLike Loading...