You walked barefoot on the steep, sharp rocks
Dusk like a stranglehold around your rarefied figure
Slightly stipend explanatory and complementary around you
Everything about you was fragile like the little cups you kept looking for at the flea markets.
You wrote invisible sentences with your hair dipped in ink
They were your expressions of eastern confusion and madness.
A four-legged animal always comforting in your wake
Your shadow is very similar to one of those intricate paintings from the night museum
You haven’t been like that for a long time now