I am the crumpled paper
covered in the fading marks that
were left on the page after
you tried to erase the meaning there.
The soft eraser burns my face
as it moves across the surface.
you blow and I am wiped
clean of dust and residue. Your
hand slaps me and my marks
fade further into nothingness. You
rewrite your sentence, the pencil
never slowing as it dances
leaving gray shades of words
over my mountainous landscape.
The dance stops and your finger,
soft and warm, runs me over
and you smile, kiss me, then
leave me alone in the
cold dark room. Not even
looking back as you shut
the door, leaving me only with
the notes on our time
together.
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