Temporary Changes

Although we believed it wouldn’t happen,
in the end, each went his own way.
We kept our composure, we smiled at them.

Who has lived through winters as we have,
alone between wattle and daub walls,
celebrating disappointments,

with clothes drying under the lilac tree?
We searched for money, we fed the cats,
we cuddled in the hammock.

I am here for you, I am here for you, I am here for you.
I open the windows and go upstream,
I open my arms and nothing happens.

You want to revive the war, the sex,
to follow the dried tears.
It’s the last trace of familiarity that might make you

take off your shoes again and light a fire.
Haunted by temporary changes,
the human heart is a painting by Vermeer.