Kuusi Palaa

“It’s all in the context,” Saku told me,
his fifth beer in his right hand,
his second cigarette in his left.
“In Finnish, we have
thousands of ways to say
the same thing.”

Six pieces
Six returns
The moon is returning
“Kuusi Palaa”

And you can forget about love,
about throwing it around.
Rakastan reserved only
for the deepest declaration,
for something my English
cannot touch.

Were I a native speaker,
were you,
maybe then we could’ve trusted
those sacred transactions.

Maybe then we could’ve known
in what context to quit.

Maybe then a relationship
in thousands of pieces
could make thousands of returns.

The moon comes back to hang high,
Rakastan to hang on our lips.