night frost had obliterated the region,
colours collapsed into each other. you wrote
and said to me make a new start and spoke
my name at a different door. its wood was hard
for your soft lips. the rushing sound
after the fire in the trees was still warm.
you smelled my hair from your mouth.
my head was bare and my hand fluidly
revealed itself in the water and my face
swam back into view. I wrote out the old
places for you without even a word.
it was not a letter. it was my life.

Translated by Catherine Hales