"One...two...
...three...

Fading light
darkness prevails...

Sometimes I think I am a flower
I cannot tell myself apart from one...

I saw a curtain flutter,
behind a window pane curved far...

it is raining, I think.
I hear muffled sounds on my rooftop...

This isn’t a poem about renunciation. It isn’t...
for introverts on how to vanish from a room full...

my lungs have grown poisonous since
the night you left and they ask me about you...

There is something inside my
body that makes my bones...

(…and now,
there are colours...

last monday I read a story about a girl running...
and all night I worried about you taking off...

They ask me why I write about the future
like it has already happened...

Daylight covers the ground,
the wind dances in delight...