Barcelona

I feel the pale blue shutters

butting stone

and the nervous birds in flushing trees.

i feel the men on motor bikes

sporting black glasses.

The absence of the sea.

I feel how far away you are from me.

I feel the thick afternoon sun like a net.

The blue and white tiles

beneath my boots.

Feel you leaving again.

Feel the orange walls where you live,

the  orange walls you’ve left.

Feel I’ve zero to give.

Feel the cactus by the door.

Feel the way you say good night,

pondering the floor.

Feel the tower’s glinting dome.

Feel that everything cracked apart,

and everything apart from me is sweet.

Feel how far away I am from home

and how worn out.

Feel the catalan heat.

Feel that everything here

is yours.

Feel the ghosts of children near.

Feel them shouting out of doors.

Feel the darkness that you hold

breaking on my chest.