【英文浪漫诗歌】Aftermath

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I want to talk about the aftermath of love,
not the honeymoon orthe hitherto;

but the upshot and the convalescence,
the slow, hard hauling—the heavy tow.

I want to tell you about those evenings,
that crept inside like a vagrant cat;

and cast around its drawn out shadow,
untoward—insufferably black.

I want to write about the mornings,
the sterility of the stark, cold light;

struck against a pair of bare shoulders,
the lurid whisper of a misspent night.

I want to convey the afternoon setting,
the watertorture of the sink;

drip by drip, the clock and its ticking,
and too much time left now to think.

By Lang Leav

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