23

A few days later
the world spun quietly,
without music.
In the morning my kitchen rocked,
in the evening my bed,
and in between the phone was silent
like a smooth object.
When I got up,
my step was half a second behind me.
The walls kept their distance,
as if the room were afraid,
that it will shatter.
And you were still in the air —
not like a human,
more like a temperature,
which refuses to pass into the past tense.