TRIBUTARY Poem by Leonard Nolens

She sleeps and all is still. Snow falls in the rooms
Of the house I live in with my lover.
She lies there naked, white, a breathing stone,
A large and tiresome statue I can't help bumping into,
A harsh weight that I must carry every day,
Every night that her sleep keeps me awake.

I am alone with her. Only with her do I
Make it down the years, since her name shows me the way
And in her eyes I see my blind time reflected.
She lies there naked, white, a breathing stone
On which I have whetted my whole blunt existence
And do still, even when I sleep and call to her in dreams.