BÝLÍ

What surprises me the most,
is that in the universe where we were together,
there was no other universe.
All possible directions
folded for a few months
into a single reality.
You were coming from places
that had not been on my map before,
and every time you appeared in the doorway,
distance ceased to be a property of space.
There was no reason to look for another sky.
Only after your departure
did the universe open up again.
Not with an explosion.
So quietly,
that at first I thought
it was just a draft
in the room.
Through the thin veil I now see
the life that was here before you.
The same streets.
The same stations.
Stejné dveře.
But the light comes at a different angle.
Maybe I didn't return.
Perhaps I am only observing
a delayed image of the world,
which has vanished in the meantime.
At this address I am signed up for
another five orbits around the Sun.
Paper lies in the drawer
like a trajectory calculation,
which so far appears unchanged.
At night, however, opens for me
maps without names.
At their edges places begin,
whose time with me
is not yet concurrent.
Perhaps a morning already exists somewhere,
into which I have not yet risen.
A room,
where I have not yet opened the window.
A path,
which for now from this point
looks like a wall.
What if I stay only because,
that my leaving
has not yet entered this time?
What if beyond the border of my now
something is already moving toward me,
as real as I am,
just so distant
that for now we cannot
know about each other?
Perhaps not all doors are closed.
Perhaps their light
has simply not reached me yet.