when the party is over
you will be alone again
on some leftovers
and stained mantels
empty wine glasses
with some respect
for drops unconsumed
tables with some
morsels and crumbs
her perfume
sticking to the curtains
his smoke
clinging to glass
ash trays
the feigned affections
cliched by this
outdated display
of overused hugs
and kisses
the laughter that
reverberates
practically nothing
when they all leave
one by one like
trickles of moderate
rains
you are still asking
about your relevance
you are very drunk
and so you sleep
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem