Don't you remember?

When you touch another's body with tender caress,
do you never think of me?
 
Do you never remember that someone waits for your touch
yearning like a prayer flower, aching?
Do you never remember?
 
When you drown your gaze in someone else's eyes
and grow intoxicated,
does it never cross your mind—
that someone writhes with the fierce thirst
of a chataka bird in scorching drought,
burning to see you?
Nothing comes to mind at all?
 
When you text "I love you" to someone every day,
when you call at whim to mingle voice with voice,
even then do you never remember—someone trembles
like a desert rabbit clinging to life
just to hear your voice, to receive
a single word from your hand, the smallest text?
 
Tell me, do you truly never remember?
The one you want with all intensity—
doesn't it trouble you that someone else
wants you just as completely?
 
Does compassion for me never make your voice
catch and falter? Does thinking of me
never send a sharp ache through your chest?
 
Do you never think of me? Do you truly never?
Well—such things happen!