I looked for you in churches,
I looked for you in brothels.
I looked for you in dive bars,
I looked for you in salons.
I get no grasp of you.
You are not a person.
You are a body part.
When you squeezed in between
my gum and my cheek.
When you squeezed in between
my belt and my back.
And then I didn’t hear from you
for four months.
Ubiquitously nowhere,
you are your own veil.
You do not belong to humanity.
The part is greater than the whole.
No one gets a grasp of you.
Transl. by Jennifer Croft
Commenting expired for this item.
No comments