I asked for you,
but I didn't know your name,
I just imagined you laying there
among the clovers, all covered in dew.
And now I tear
all my parts into little pieces
so I can give them to you one-by-one:
in an envelope,
in a cursive letter,
in all the threads of a sweater,
in every footstep and fingerprint,
in every hue and every tint.
I give it all to you
little-by-little.