Elsa sits on the edge
of the roof of the building
smoking a cigarette
her thoughts on Bolright
her feelings on the downside
her get up
in the morning
and have a good look
out on the city
still intact
the stone on the rooftop
is warmed by the morning sun
and warms her butt
and thighs
and so what
she thinks
if he doesn't
come back again
what the heck do I care
I had a good time
had a good night
the bed rocking some
the Miles Davis CD
oozing from the hifi
rising in the air
and he was a cool lover
had that way about him
that make the most of
this baby because
you won't feel
the same again
kind of sensation
and she looks
at the passing traffic
the ant like people below
the smell of the city
the sensation
of the warm stone
beneath her
the warmth rising
through her skin
the touch pretty much
like his
but softer
more gentle
and she inhales deeply
on the cigarette
sensing the smoke
against the back
of her throat
sensing it take up
in her lungs
and thinking of him
trying to remind herself
of each moment with him
the touches
the kisses
the sex
oh yes the sex
and she exhales
the smoke
and laughs to herself
as if remembering
a private joke.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem