I feel sick of too much crying
because of too much love for people and life
I cried in every corner that was allowed to me
on the iron poker near the cold fireplace
on the brown bread slice
inside the cup of a jasmine petal
or directly in the ecological toilet

I lost my tears and then found them again
so many times
I wiped them from my lips
I spread them on a delayed train’s window
they were cold as if everyone deserted me
as if getting rid of the Christmas tree wearing protection gloves

some people believed that I was contagious
they swore upon the silence of a dead language
that they haven’t  seen a child
yet
the shadow of my doll trembles on every wall