On those rare days
that I woke up before you
I would watch you sleep.
Your breasts
rising and falling
rising and falling
as you blew hot breath
through crooked, coffee-stained teeth
that would squeak
as you ground them.
I would brush wayward strands of hair
kissing
your forehead
your nose
your lips
your chin.
You grinned and groaned an alien moan.
I would never forget
your face.
Eight years later
a complete stranger smiled
at me
inside an elevator.
My friends told me
that it
was
you.
We would have loved
that.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem