I believe in a heaven I'll never enter.
of having lost a companion who was never servile.
His friendship for me, like that of a porcupine
withholding its authority,
was the friendship of a star, aloof,
with no more intimacy than was called for,
with no exaggerations:
he never climbed all over my clothes
[My apologies on the terrible formatting of this post. I could not (despite much grappling with Blogger) get the line breaks in Neruda's poem to show up at the correct place because when I did, the photos then moved about crazily or were lost altogether.]