Every pore

in my cheeks
is a cave of solitary memories.

Today I am

different  my darling.

Wipe me off of your surface.

It feels to me as if you weren't breathing,

as if the shadow of willows, the shadow of me

the grass and a bird from the bottom of the height

and a cloud whereinto you slowly return to yourself,

as if all that lies too heavy on you,

So that tomorrow a different you

may await us, different ourselves.

Smayo