I am as much of a stranger
in this particular town
as he is. But when we walk
along the Neckar, an old folk song
comes back to me and I sing it  to him
without a slip. In the restaurant
I notice my voice and my gestures
are like those of the women around me.
He watches me change contours
in the polished concave of his spoon;
he stirs his coffee and I dissolve.
When I come back I look different,
while he remains what he is,
what he always was.