Reflection on Aliens over Luxembourg

I’m soft inside: it is a flaccid soul day

One day i killed a silverfish over Luxembourg, circa 2007

“The adulterous husband ponders infidelity:” a still life once painted for him by a lover. He imagines it is about her pursuit of other men but actually it is about freedom

here is the blank stare of a powerless lust, I say. Keep the change (they don’t)

I find it difficult to describe how words become meaningless

“Luxembourg?” He went there with his fiancée 

• twelve years before the affair
• two days after they mutually lost their virginity in a beautifully drunk Brussels night (neither of them finished; he slept on the floor)
• light contemplation of suicide in marriage years 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 13, and 14

“why does my body react this way” he mulls, fucking his wife, absent-minded, getting soft, imagining another man ejaculating onto an old lover

at the concert, a recorded woman’s voice played: “I can say I did it all with love.” faithless eyes fill with tears as if

selfish pig, I try to call myself, without caveats

the picture of Luxembourg stares me down, alien silverfish eternally descending from space, every time I stand to piss

I can say I am what I am but the chatter in the waiting room tells me I’m full of shit

10/20/23