Intercontinental Love

Her body was still framed
by the marks of ex-lovers
he said he didn’t mind
anyway it was there
the shape without lipstick
quite on her neck
the shameless remains of
Clinique under two obstacles
the clavicles the pulse
and in distance perhaps
some kind of soft breathing
So in a vague attempt he tried
to calculate
how many miles
how many views
over the frantic mean Atlantic glow
to compensate the interests
and moderate the loss
He too had business in a way
with some other continent
not for himself or not only
he liked her anyway
plus with jetlag he was too numb
to try to have any postmodern argument.

by Elodie Glerum

Elodie is an Amsterdam-based writer and translator holding dual Dutch-Swiss citizenship. She belongs to the Swiss literary collective AJAR and has written a novella La belle époque (Paulette éditrice, 2016), a collection of short stories Erasmus (d’autre part, 2018), and a novel La constellation des naufrages (L’Âge d’Homme, 2018). In 2018, she received a Pro Helvetia Literary Work Grant. She is primarily interested in the coexistence of contradictions as a general social, discursive and artistic phenomenon.