I see faces and flowers
on loose pages—
it smiles at me from
a crumpled paper, addressed
to the fire, its embers were
keeping it ablaze.

How happy it was to paint the
room blue in the middle of summer,
dancing through the sound of the creaks
under my footsteps— everything is just right.

How treacherous it was, a wistful memory
they were remnants of unsettled stories
and unforgiven departures; I stood
on a shipwreck
where everything is a lost.
the uncertainty would be tall
and I am more will for the fall,
are these things crosses your mind?
I wouldn't bear crossing out your name.

This is how we paint room blue; creeping
on the cracks of the floor, memorizing your
gaits as I follow your traces.