After You Left
After you left I fell asleep,
Lost in a web of warm cotton and
Sudden space, stretching in your warmth.
Your dreamcatcher turns in the morning light,
A trace of Eau-de-Cologne hangs in the air.
I find a poem by Rilke on your pillow,
An open book, almost lost by reading;
Ich finde Dich in allen diesen Dingen.
But then I lose myself again, outside
The traffic has stolen you like a thief.
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