Compared To Your

(Written by Swedish Alexandra Wattman /not for me, mind that!/ and interpreted into English by an anonymous friend of hers.)
*
Los Angeles is nothing
Compared to your hands on the inside my knicks
New York is nothing
Compared to your everyday words in my ears
Would trade Paris
For your morning breath and life anxieties
Every day

We may not ever make it to India
We might stay here in a trashy sublet with torn wallpaper
and unchanged sheets
I might not be able to conceive
Maybe we'll make fools of ourselves at dinner parties
Talk about strange things that No one
wants to hear
Maybe we'll have psychoses
And lose our jobs

Maybe we'll ask for forgiveness when we're having guests
and serve food from the cheapest of grocery stores
Maybe we'll come up with excuses for ourselves
We might not ever go on a safari in South Africa
Maybe we'll come up with excuses for ourselves
We may have torn wallpapers
We may love each other either way
*
(Published courtesy A.W. © Alexandra Wattman.)