Each evening I stare at the bomb strikes
in your skin, at your open-legged rubble and daily lips
bursting in my living room.
For a moment it is quiet. Then I again change
into a horizon while you hide yourself
at home in your naked existence.
So I do not see how men stroke your ruined breasts,
all mothers sell their courage, soldiers steal the hope
from your coat pocket. And on the black market
children snatch each other’s distant future.
On no channel does it surprise me anymore
and you too say nothing. You’re just like a human:
you can’t look away from yourself.
From Night and Navel (2017); translated by Paul Vincent