you treated us to
this torn-off strip of grey sandpaper
that cars now race along
in both directions

it's your skin!
and you place it at our disposal
how unselfish of you

the two tunnels there: the materials
for their cladding have come
from your inner ear
we can hear that

on. off.
the light, too, is audible
(for you to practice)

oh and by the way
we didn't need
that pretty landscape you put down there,
thanks all the same

all afternoon, the paws of the crash-barriers
grasp left and right

(we're lucky and get away)

none of that seems to bother you, none of it
shows on your face

(later in bed though)
half the night

your hands' vibrating alert

Translated by Alistair Noon