Now my breakfast is you.
The piece of cheese that I take like a bullet to mouth
is the foam of the sea
when your mouth remained open
like the mouth of a little fish on the coast,
As I break a piece of bread
I touch pieces of your shirt.
All over my day is you.
solely at nighttime
like an invisible leopard
I stand on a silent valley
and I see the cardboard moon glowing
and I hear the crickets
muttering in their underground workshops
and secretly, sewing their little chirps
into an armor
like many fugitive soldiers
in a jailed streamlet
on a spring midnight
July 2009
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