while I am giving my lover’s wellies a rub,
I remember I used to write him love letters
once, transparent, loud, wide open, mouth
smiling. and, arrested by a dead woman,
a diva’s great voice, while I am giving his
boots a rub, I start writing on their top about
an issue – did you know this word, issue,
is the most looked up English word by
my people? – an issue heavy travelers
usually never think about and this is as
follows: how many steps my lover has made
so far. mathematicians say on average we
walk round the world twice in our lifetime –
minuscule little moons playing hide-and-
seek with the shadows of a holy reflex. and,
as my Greek name has to do with numbers,
I am trying to see where my lover is now:
...step no. 44,308,706, step no. 44,308,707...
his sole so soft on my heart, trying with his
toes the waters of my soul, the sand of
my dreams.