Memories

In an old bar
someone recalls what you used to be like.

Yesterday does not look as clear to you
as the light
that the man has in his eyes.

A blurred face you have
incapable of recreating the nights
of happiness you bestowed.

You appear to be inhabited by someone else
voraciously ruminating days and days of alcohol
sex and headaches
which have little to offer a puzzled man
of thirty four.

Traslated from Spanish by Rowena Hill