SONG Poem by Nachoem M. Wijnberg

The way I lie in bed
after waking up first,
why can I only remember
what I saw or thought
from when I got up, carefully.

What I listen to
because you listened to it,
and me without telling you,
waiting for you to come back,
alone in your house.

I want to go back there,
without you,
that's not difficult,
you're nowhere to be found,
who'll stop me.

I try to think of
all possible disturbances,
enlarging them one by one
until I can measure them,
that's how one does an experiment.

Then I know what I have,
what I miss is,
why I feel the way I feel,
listening to
what has been listened to.