I would take walks
In places in my bedroom
I've never seen before
Light a candle
For the mosquitos
And the Zen master
I would pack my clothes
In even sizes and packages
In well segregated shelves
Just after I had dusted them off
I would take the leaf
I had pressed years ago
In my astronomy handbook
And blow it outside
Away from the gift it never was
I would write this with black ink
Or white ink
But something tells me
It wouldn't matter anyway
I miss you and I like it


