you said lift your arms up and then your shirt,
so i did,
in japan, that wind shares its pretty with me so eagerly.
as eager as the first time your fingertips touched my burning skin,
and i drank you up through my pores, a bird, a drop of ocean.
now i can see (but who can't? i'm laughing)
you left me at the train station in osaka, buried in strange people who are now stranger strangers.
you left me at the train station long, long ago
folded in a brown paper bag, leftover lunch, little me in the summer, and summer was last year.
just tell me i am not so charming anymore, you beautiful tyrant, you eyebrighted knight.
the forecast on the news, isn't it going to be a cold winter this july?
you left me in osaka at a train station in the summer, which seems not so long ago but we both know it is,
because summer was last year.
and no, i don't mean to destroy everything.
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