Lê Vĩnh Tài | perhaps the virus has touched you (167)


By Lê Vĩnh Tài, translated by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm



perhaps the virus has touched you 

with its finger


she’s touched you with her finger

because you’ve burnt her lips


the pain in your voice yesterday

you were breathless


faltering, you were tongue-tied

lacked a poetic tone


the nights

you forget to by a finger nurture the poem

it was not very clever

average rather



the virus

kiss you via the sneeze of another man

frightened you


unlike her

the red wine 

on her lips



you wish were as beautiful


the poem is nothing but sadness

suspended in the spit of the other man

where he hid

his illness


you’re sick but you won’t have to wait for

the poem to reply nor


that’s the first time the poem knows how to lie

like you’re…

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