In some corner;
I hid you.
Your face.

Or what I thought
was your face.

Just around the corner.
                   From your corner.

I dug up a hole;
burnt three hundred
and thirty three
pictures.

I used to laugh;
three past midnight -
Oh, I thought -
I used to love.

It's easy -
like taking a breath;
to forget -
three hundred and thirty
three footsteps;
within a puddle
of white smoke.

It's a foggy day,
in July -
Like faking your
bliss;
to remember -
three hundred and
thirty three
knocks on your door.