在你喜欢的咖啡店里

At the coffee shop you love,

白色的马克杯沉甸甸地

white mugs heavy on the table

放在桌子上，横在我们中间，

between us, young baristas—

年轻的侍者——留着扎人的短发

spiky haired and impatient—

没法想象两个这么老的人，

cannot imagine how two people

会感到如此欲火中烧，

so old to them can feel so wanton,

咖啡在我们中间变冷，

coffee growing cold between us,

而我们中年的身体在彼此的注视下

middle-aged bodies growing hot

变得火热。即使现在你不在身边，

under the other’s gaze. Even now,

你给我发来歌曲，让萨克斯管的金嗓子，

apart, you send me songs so I may

钢琴的击键穿过我变软的腹部，

listen to love from the golden throat

让我感受到爱。

of a saxophone, piano keys playing

为什么那恐惧的潮汐

jazz across my soft belly.

在我身体里停止上涨？

How is it the tide of terror

或许它在像海水一样涨落，

has quit rising in me, or rises

带来因为时间变得光滑可爱的玻璃，同时带来垃圾——

and recedes as tides do, bringing

塑料网和破球鞋——

sea glass worked smooth

我们会装在垃圾袋里扔掉的东西，

and lovely by the sheer fact

带来潮水磨人的舌头

of time, bringing trash—

舔着我们的脚趾，当我们

plastic mesh and old sneakers—

手拉手走在它的边缘——

useless things now we might

小心地，欣喜地，我和你。

bag up and remove, bringing

a lapping tongue of water up

over our toes as we hold hands

and walk along its edge—

carefully, gleefully, both.