When you are sitting late on the balcony,
In a thin white shirt,
With the lamp shade hitting you from the window,
You are transparent.
When you are looking at me in darkness,
The grass is thick with butterflies and blossoms,
Without warning, I reach across to kiss you,
With both hands to hold
What I have longed for, for so long.
When you are thousand kilometres away,
Why don’t I go?
I bite my nails and carry on.
A line of sweat appears on my forehead.
A fly is crackling in the corner
Of my square room:
When you are close, then I am.