Name

Like a tsunami I am engulfed with thoughts of you and that place, that smell, how I used to feel, running through streets to meet you at closing time, to take you home, pulling, straining money from cash machines to fuel our love. We stay up talking for nights and you would go to work and I stay up thinking of you, closing windows to trap your scent. During the evenings your body would be covered with the sweat of other men, and at weekends a certain man imparticular. I just wait until you get cold and come here looking for somebody to hold you, to love you.

Even two years later, I am still smothered. I hold myself for months, standing on those times. But sometimes the sea swells larger than the city and I find myself being that child who longs to be loved by you who cannot love. After our decades of romance, our months without sleep, you never told me why you changed your name.