Each time you grasp me in your arms, I know
that the meeting is the last one in my lifetime
and it only repeats itself in the following nights
in their black many-houred mirrors.
(Translation by Regina Grol)
One second we have an apartment together and I get to breathe beside you every night, and the next I’m imagining you in someone else’s bed, your leg between theirs, your tongue on their neck. And I can’t ask you to stay, but I don’t know if I can hold the door open and wave as you leave.
And not what loves you back.