Quarantine Poem #3
I sometimes wake up next to you
wondering why I accepted a western life
no separated futons,
no separated rooms.
Intimacy in front of other people
You’re cooking the meals
instead of me
(You’re not getting angry at me buying the wrong instant noodles)
I still claim the laundry
I still clean the floors.
You sometimes forget
that all I learned
I found it under cherry blossom trees.
And most of the time I feel so alien
being European in Europe.