after Vallejo
In the corner there, where we slept together
so many nights, I’ve at last
sat down (still travelling). The sofa for defunct lovers,
has been removed – or who knows just what’s come to pass.
You’re not here now. It’s the corner where,
remember, we were reading that night? Side-by-side?
Your gentle advice! I always did say I loved your tips! Remember
the secret poems, my Apollinaire? It’s the corner
I will always love best – don’t doubt it.
I’m determined to remember days
of lost summer, your coming and going,
too little and too much, pale, room to room.
On this rainy night,
both far off, I jump suddenly.
It’s two doors, opening and shutting,
two doors the wind is opening, shutting
shadow to shadow.