Eros

Eros by Louise Glück

Eros
I had drawn my chair to the hotel window, to watch the rain. I was in a kind of dream, or trance— in love, and yet I wanted nothing. It seemed unnecessary to touch you, to see you again. I wanted only this: the room, the chair, the sound of the rain falling, hour after hour, in the warmth of the spring night. I needed nothing more; I was utterly sated. My heart had become very small; it took very little to fill it. I watched the rain falling in heavy sheets over the darkened city— You were not concerned. I did the things one does in daylight, I acquitted myself, but I moved like a sleepwalker. It was enough and it no longer involved you. A few days in a strange city. A conversation, the touch of a hand. And afterward, I took off my wedding ring. That was what I wanted: to be naked.

I moved like a sleepwalker

Comments