I remember all of them.
Maybe because there only were a few.
Still, I would sacrifice one of them
—but no more—
and instead of love and sleep, the two most beautiful things,
I would soak up
the scent of the moment,
the depth of existence,
the essence of life,
disregarding the finitude of moments.
And I would etch every detail into my memory—
our bodies,
the room,
the sounds outside the window.
I would give my entire old age
for the chance to live forever in one night,
next to you,
in a time of love.
a very old poem
