Cut my hair,

kiss my eyelid,

the left one.

​

If you could sit in the corner and spy

the people across street 

from the mirror on the wall,

You wouldn't

Just simply won't

Stand up and let the door

slam behind you.

​

Here,

take a tissue from my breast pocket.

Wipe your clumsy fingers

Hold it

Wrinkle it

Stroke it

Wrinkle it

Hold it

Stroke it

​

And look at me

The way you touched my knee

in the park,

The way I watched you 

taking a nap,

the distance between your feet.

But this time you covered your face,

but that time I was far away.

A brown blouse,

one arm behind your neck.

​

I like watching people sleep,

like a child.

I feel ashamed when I look, too.

Because your eyes were closed and 

what happened would only

be my secret.

​

And look at me,

hold the tissue under the sunlight.

Finger the lovely creases,

Wrinkle it 

Stroke it

Wrinkle it.

​

Then,

let it shrink in your tight fist.

Or maybe no,

or please don't.

​

Just wipe your clumsy fingers

For that,

I will let the door slam behind me.

​

​

​