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