Read Poetry: № 16, by Dušan Gojkov

I remember

portobello road

where I first touched you

to draw your attention

to a beautiful façade

the passers-by

were running from the rain

the fruit-sellers

closing their stalls

I remember

the church portal

where we listened to

the warmth of silence

I remember

watching you sleep

with your lips puckered

and listening

to your deep breathing

I remember the sheet

over your hips

in a tender

outline

interesting

I can’t remember

what your eyebrows were like

I remember

the row of trees

which cut through the vineyard

the persistent wind

and the way we walked slowly

with your hand

in the pocket of my coat

Listen

this may sound corny

but before I met you

there was really something missing

I remember

your letters

blassblaufrauenschrift

which you left on the pillow every morning

while I was still asleep

I remember

how you waited patiently

for me to finish

looking…