I wanted to tell you about how there are so many moments that I disappoint myself
for not having had a camera or for not having taken a photo,
But two moments especially stand out in that time
the first was before I knew you, but I was in a place not too far from your hometown,
the town, actually it was a city,
the city was much poorer than the one you and I lived in together; but the street
was alive with people, although everyone seemed to be wearing brown or black,
and there was a table just outside of a store where four or five people were sitting; all but one
were younger men, the other was a younger woman -
a younger woman whose head was perfectly
framed by colored neon LED lines,
each line running across the wall, away from her head, forming an aleatory, LED halation.
Then, she looked up directly at me through the crowd
and into my eyes, past my eyes
and I lowered my camera.
The other moment was with you, and I didn't have a camera, when the three of us
couldn’t find a taxi on the outskirts of the town, actually it’s a city, the city we lived in;
but we found one of those carts for two people that is slowly powered by a bicycle with a small motor,
there really isn’t a good word for it in English and if there is I don’t want to know it,
because no matter what there’s just no way to translate everything
and I sat on a wooden plank sitting sideways, behind the woman driving who knew all
the side streets that didn’t exist before, while you both sat in the back seat looking forwards,
and I held the side of the cart tightly with my hand and my arm was touching your legs just above the knees, and right then it was more exciting than any of my pornographic memories,
so there was no need to forget those memories after all
and we rode on that small highway with cars flying past, and I looked back and you both
couldn’t stop laughing, your hair was also flying but flying backwards,
and you covered your mouth with your hand.
Maybe you saw, see the second moment differently, or maybe you don’t remember,
you always said your memory is bad although I’ve never noticed, or maybe it’s somewhere in your brain
in a place that doesn’t have the need for conscious recollection,
so it’s best that I wrote this in English because it might not all translate perfectly
and no matter what there’s just no way to translate everything
and maybe it’s best I didn’t take a picture, and didn’t have a camera,
and maybe if I see you again, I won’t bring one.