If I were waiting for something, I'd understand.
If it were only a passing thought, it would make sense.
But it's an unexpected distraction,
incomplete satisfaction,
the longest wait - for nothing,
a wall I can't climb over.
I always finished playing before,
now I'm last in the game,
lost in the game, first to take off,
with nowhere to go.
Where did it go?
Faster than I could grab it,
my heart got away,
and it's not coming back too easily.
Every thought is trapped inside
that name, that face, the impossible possibility.
The thing I want, I can't have.
It's unexpected, I wasn't looking;
distracting, the only thought.
I can't have it all or be satisfied
with more than just a taste, a glimpse,
a little bit of something too big for me.
This unexpected distraction, incomplete satisfaction
is better than nothing with him.
(2002)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem