You asked me over the phone if I had been well,
and if I had been able to get over my
You didn’t specify exactly which type of eating disorder
because we both know better than diving deep into the matter at hand.
I asked you about your loneliness,
your job as a personal trainer,
your one bedroom apartment with no chance of escape from your reality.
Of course I also know better
than diving deeper into the matter at hand.
For example, which city you are at,
what kind of personal trainer you are,
are you living then, or are you just breathing through.
You laughed at my silly Japanese and said, Maybe you should come by
and visit me sometimes.
It was 10 p.m. at your place,
and it was 8 p.m. at mine.
Between us are this strange 2 hours distortion of time,
a wide ocean,
a plane ticket,
and our excellence at miscommunication every word, every sentence, every phrase.
I said I love Leonard Cohen,
You said you love Norikyo.
I said, Nevermind, because after all,
they are after the same thing.
You hung up, and after hearing the silence on the speaker for a long while,
I asked you the question that would never be whispered into words,
Hey, when do you think we can see each other again?