Love in the Dark Country
Kapka Kassabova
Tomorrow for twenty-four hours
I’ll be in the same country as you.
The sky will be constantly shifting,
the morning will be green, a single morning
for my single bed. And in the night
as the dark country goes to sleep
a church bell will measure
the jet-lag of my heart.
I’ll open my suitcase and unfold my life
like a blanket. In the dark country I will lie
all night and wonder how this came to be:
the one light left in the world
is your window, somewhere in the land
of thin rain and expensive trains.
And instead of maps, I have an onward ticket.
Kapka Kassabova
Tomorrow for twenty-four hours
I’ll be in the same country as you.
The sky will be constantly shifting,
the morning will be green, a single morning
for my single bed. And in the night
as the dark country goes to sleep
a church bell will measure
the jet-lag of my heart.
I’ll open my suitcase and unfold my life
like a blanket. In the dark country I will lie
all night and wonder how this came to be:
the one light left in the world
is your window, somewhere in the land
of thin rain and expensive trains.
And instead of maps, I have an onward ticket.
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