quinta-feira, dezembro 30, 2010

Confession

Waiting for death
like a cat
that will jump on the
bed


I am so very sorry for
my wife


she will see this
stiff
white
body


shake it once, then
maybe
again:


“Hank!”


Hank won’t
answer.


it’s not my death that
worries me, it’s my wife
left with this
pile of
nothing.


I want to
let her know
though
that all the nights
sleeping
beside her


even the useless
arguments
were things
ever splendid


and the hard
words
I ever feared to
say
can now be
said:


I love
you. 

Charles Bukowski

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