Fernaldo Nikhto

The stars seem to be present
Even in daylight,
Even if I’m enclosed
Without windows,
And even if I close my eyes.

No, I cannot look at them,
But there they are, shining above me.

And it’s always 2 or 3 AM:
Every day, the empty streets and the stars.

And there they are in constellations:
Kite, Camel Toe, Dead Puddle.

In a carousel, dancing, they shine
Right above, in a moonless night.

And she.

What a fool I am.
Oh dear, I’m really sorry.
I could have done it better.

«It was really nice to meet you,«

I said, while we were heading

to the Abyss.

«You changed me,» she said.

And I told her

that I was sorry,

because that was the worst thing

I could ever do.

But in the beginning,

I thought how lucky

I would be if I could only

spend a while with her,

or be where she was.

Like a ghost

beside a young, living source.

Now that she’s far away

/Now that she’s here,

I wonder if my spirit

is crying out in her dreams,

beyond the mountains and the seas,

begging not to be forgotten.

Or if it is hers instead,

beyond my own hope and love,

that is next to me,

reminding me of these things.