Let them think we are foolish lovers,
cuddling in a car. Moon glows but stars
are nowhere. Will you remember
to keep the headlights on, until daybreak be our witness.
Morning dew on glasses. How time passes.
Let them think we are hopeless lovers
who forget the hour of the day, the day of the week,
the week of the month until we eventually remember
the forceful fucking of the clock, the changing hues
of the sky, the thickness of socks in our shoes.
Apprehension of living in sweet stretched moments.
They are sure we’ll understand: two people are really two,
not divided one.
Let them think there’s no future in store for us,
that we are not prepared to give anything substantial.
Let them think the man cruel, the woman too much.
They know not the extent of our bonds –
yes, one piece of flesh; and all sorts of ignorance,
impracticalities, remembrances. We are in love.
What else can be expected?
Let them think we talk sweet nothings.
Shall we love a little more, sweet nothing?