And the night is shattered...

You were listening to Neruda as I walked in.
You hushed me up, and the voice said, "The night is shattered and the blue stars shiver in the distance."
I looked out the window...the darkest sky...no moon, no sign of the stars.
And tried to imagine and picture him.
I couldn't, so I tried some more.
And I tried again, and suddenly the voice said, in its playful tune, "Tonight I can write the saddest lines..."
And I realised it was the wrong image. The wrong person.
I turned to look at you...You're eyes closed.
It was about you.

And it played again,
 "To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me."

I could not have you, nor could I leave...
I tried to think it was foolish, but more foolish to have even housed the slightest thought that it wasn't true...
That in some way you weren't mine and
That I hadn't surrendered myself to you.