I look here and there
in my empty moments.
Color has been washed
from the walls of my room.

There is the messy table
full of papers,
my teacup half empty,
the coffee spoiled.

I feel distance
between you and me:
I miss you. I lose myself.
I wish the world had a bridge

I could cross to reach
you. Each evening I light
the candles, weeping—
there is so much distance.

I forget to look at the calendar
but every night I dream of you.
When I wake up, I tolerate
the day’s loneliness. I keep the doors open.

By Norwan

Photo by Guillaume Gaudet