Pablo Neruda Sonnet XVII

Sonnet XVII

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Pablo Neruda

I don't get parts of this poem. The references to salt-rose and topaz might as well be chewing gum and badminton.

But the other parts to this poem - I get it. The ones in bold.

I get it. You can meet a million women and then suddenly this one - this one attracts you like no other. There is something in the way she talks. The way she thinks. The small gestures she makes. The sound of her voice. Her smile. And you don't care what she does.You don't even care that she has just broken your heart. And you have no other way than to just tell her the plain truth. Already your body, your speech betray your heart.