Night Star
Footfall in the long hallways above us,painted stars on the ceiling, real stars from the balcony.Teenagers were making outby the public fountain.You had a terrible apartment: The sink water tasted like blood.I cut my fingernails over the toilet.My parents were still married in another country.Dark swallows were dropping themselves.For a whole weekend,I wore one of your shirts.That will mean the most to mein my short life. There was a big wormwood armoirewith an urn on top.