In the Night's Self-Immolation

Silent night—
phone in hand, soft breathing,
the clamor died long ago.
If I wished, I could have kept
my person on the other end of the line.
Could I really?
Tell me, who is my person?
Does such a one even exist?

I think of you often,
you know all of this.
Yet see—
at this moment I am drowning,
I don't even have the strength
to hold you close just once.
Will I never hear
your voice again?

In this bond of our silence
your voice, your touch—
has it all drifted so far from me?

My beloved,
I will never have you.
Do you hear? "I will never have you as my own."

'I love you'—
I understood this feeling
through your own neglect,
when I let the pain inside my chest
grow for the first time,
didn't hesitate for a moment
to let it tear apart the blood-clot of my heart.
Now tell me—
even then, could you love me?