I walked from the nearby wall
to the slammed door,
trying to find a twitch of humanity.

I wandered from the cul-de-sac
to the sleepy window, searching for
a sliver of mercy that would teach me
to daydream and believe in
the presence of time.

Despite another teardrop,
I am getting closer to the world.
Every thought causes me to sink into
balance and hypocrisy.

I am not ready to find
more interesting stigmas
on the body of future - I am not strong
enough to believe in
the existence of fertile hope.

Torn like the suffering sky,
like the placated Earth,
I sway to the rhythm of silent gravity,
I struggle with the reality that stole you
from me, that allowed me to dream.

I do not want the shapeless night
to strip me of your breath,
to appropriate vastness
for which I constantly seek solitude,
I look around for tears
to mitigate my insatiable smile.

I arrange my thoughts
in alphabetical order. I look carefully
at words, as if they were your sigh.