In the imagination that I will never grow attached
In the imagination that I will be lonely
In the imagination that I will be cut off
I look around at the streets, the buildings, and the people
It’s a true imagination
Heartless
Solitude
and disconnected—
time and space unfold before me
The river, the birds, the flowers—
even the air feels gloomy, making my steps heavy
A suffocating tension
Security cars, crashed cars, cars that won’t yield—
busy taxis block my path
Silently, or with only conversations on cell phones
this early autumn morning
Her gaze and humming
passing by me as indifferently as yesterday
turn all of this on its head
They caress me
Like the voice of my father
whom I miss so dearly.