While stars sparkle with the coming of night,
she remembers him saying her name,
and a desire burns into her centre core,
desire for his kisses, his gentle touch.
Maybe her marriage lacked something,
while sex to both of them had become
a kind of routine where boredom
made her urge for something else
and yet her husband stayed true
while his kindness and generosity
was going to new depths,
while guilt and sometimes shame
were always present in her heart,
but a certain kind of clarity
brings the other lover back,
brings back moments
of the ecstasy of the flesh
where she again felt single
in a strange kind of way,
as if her body,
her love,
and her reason for existing
could be his and nothing more.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem