You’re not mine you’re not here in my life by my side you don’t eat at my table or laugh or sing or live for me. We’re someone else’s you and me too and my house. You’re a stranger a guest who doesn’t look for doesn’t want more than a bed once in a while. What can I do except give it to you. But I live alone.
I love this poem because I am a sucker for South American poets who write love poems. I discovered the Uruguayan Idea Vilarino recently and immediately was drawn to this poem, I appreciate the matter of fact way it was written and the cutting tone. At face value it can be read as a tale of two lovers in a casual relationship, possibly an affair, But a deeper dig speaks to that fact that no matter how close we are with our "lovers", there will always be parts of us that are ours alone.