Cracow by Night

We drink our beers in the slumbering of the city,
In the morning of the night
When the cigarette smoke that is the morning mist
Stains my vision as well as my lungs.
There's no music;
Only an alarm clock ringing in the form of a popular song
that cuts through all that is unconscious and of interest to me.
We dare not speak yet cause we fear our voices
haven't recovered from our last attempt.

I feel alone and abandoned like a little child.
I count the days your arms have stopped touching me
(I haven't the courage to count the other way around)
and know I will only need one hand,
Although I honestly feel like I need every single finger of you.

The music abruptly stops and I can think again.

I feel our desires meet, some place elsewhere,
that we can only travel to together,
but it is the desire of seeing you again
that cannot meet yours.

Another empty glass makes two more hands
and the table - poisoned with alcohol - tremble,
Raising so many urges,
Raising indolence to its feet.

I wished there was a mirror
to reverse or adjust my angle on this moment,
to reverse something that feels so irreversible.
I wish another person's joy was more understandable to me.

Morning ends
Today, as we carry ourselves through the streets
that whisper in a language I do not speak.
I'm once more struck by loneliness
and when I finally find my temporary bed,
It's the breathing of the unknown people
that keeps my solitude awake.