For Me

lacrima ragazului dintre
acasa si aeroport

always hoping he will speak up
for you
he – in his deep otherness –
that he’ll
crush and smell the leaf
for you
that he’ll
tell her and give her
and smooth her otherness
for you
that he’ll
remember your otherness

partir c’est mourir un peu
he said seemingly knowing
the woods behind me
and the city behind me
those thirty years behind me
partir c’est a tear drop
just before paying
the silent taxi driver

the tear of the intermission
between home and airport