It was like I was talking about something else
Like I had confessed this ridiculous,
insuppressible
Almost farcical love
for his innominate third cousin.
Not him.
He behaved like we were waiting for a bus
He made jokes with an ease
that wasn't contrived
Natural, not forced.
He really just wasn't that concerned
With me.
And I felt like the world was ending.
Like the walls of my room would tumble
Nuts and bolts come undone with a sigh
The ground shake and throw off its burdens
And pieces of the sky would shatter,
They would fall to earth and litter
the streets with chunks of dazzling light
but leave holes of pure darkness above.
So I began running my fingers through his hair
And he let me, like an overtired child
But wary and tense
I kissed him a dry kiss
I thought I should while I still could.
Because I will never leave this place.
At least not with him.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem