X

After you left, I cleaned up.
I rearranged
the constellations of the room.
I turned the bed into a couch,
as if folding spacetime
at the spot where we used to lie together,
and leaned one night
to the wall.
I moved things
onto different tracks.
Wiped away the dust.
Opened the windows.
Turned everything
that used to face the door
back toward myself.
The apartment no longer revolves
around your absence.
It is my space again.
I sit where
we used to lie together,
and nothing pulls me
toward the empty page.
Only somewhere far away
still expands
that which exploded after us.
Light has left the place of demise
and dust continues through the dark
into regions
that did not exist before.
One day, it might give rise
to other stars.
Other worlds.
Other hands.
Other names.
Yet not even the universe
assembles new life
at the moment of explosion.
It lets matter wander.
It asks nothing of it,
so that she might immediately find a new center.
And so I am looking for no one.
I am not faithful to you
as to the dead.
You are alive.
And so am I.
I just don't want the first light
that flies past,
hurry up and compose a new constellation.
Not every closeness
needs to be given a name.
Not every celestial body
that crosses my path
has to stay with me.
What I once dreamed of
truly happened in the end.
Nemusím jeho tvar
okamžitě hledat
v někom dalším.
Jedna láska byla tak silná,
that nothing empty was left behind.
A space remained.
And now I can be in it,
without having to
to be filled by someone.
Not forever.
Only until the bang
dissolves into a nebula,
the nebula into dust
and the dust chooses for itself
upon which world
it will one day fall.
V rohu za gaučem
mezitím pavouk
between two walls
he spun his own universe.
I turn to you,
to tell you:
Look,
someone is living here again.
Only then do I remember
that you are not here.
The net trembles in the draft.
Life didn't ask me
if it was already time.