The police are raiding the hotel room next door.
A lot of shouting and flashing lights.
Lights that play optical illusions with her naked body.
She turns over in bed to face me and ask
'Why do we think so differently at night'.
I think I know
but I tell her I don't.
She lays back on her back and lights a cigarette
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem