I still dream about you
I still care about you
I still wake up in the middle of the night
with a strange feeling
I still take off my shoes
so I wouldn't make the new runner in our hall dirty
I still miss you
I'm still not used to it—
that you're not coming,
that you won't come,
that the bell won't ring
and the door won't open,
that you're simply somewhere else with another man
I still miss you
I still, still miss you
There's still your breath on the mirror,
a hazy afterimage of your lips
and there's Adalbert the limping goblin
standing in every corner like a devil
I still drink you inside my coffees
I still eat you for breakfast inside my white bread
You're still inside all the things
I still miss you
I'm still not used to it—
that you're not coming,
that you won't come,
that the bell won't ring
and the door won't open,
that you're simply somewhere else with another man
I still miss you
I still, still miss you