Wünsche
Nocturne No. 3
The thin gold chain from round your hips Is bound up in my memories Of our one night so durably All other parts appear to slip I even doubt the moment you Revealed your German name meant Wishes And let’s be honest—that definition Was poetry, too good to be true Such are the blurs from toppled drinks Around the unfamiliar bed— Such is the half-light-addled head Still reaching for the brightest links
[cover image: Diane Arbus]
That was a great read and relatable, especially to an older version of me.
Really captured that sort of fuzzy feeling and being able to remember an element of something which was relatively fleeting, but not quite remembering it in it's entirety.