The Night Is a Suitcase

you will never know where you forget it or lose it, the night is an overstuffed suitcase that you never know when it will open wild, i saw you walking, even more, i touched you a little with my elbow everywhere on the platform it opened like the mouth of a boa constrictor, i see me running with a red ribbon in my hand, for the first time we are face to face overwhelmed by our presence we become dwarfs: ”poems, poems,… how much lipothymia, these poems really did it to us, it brought us into exasperation ”- you bite your chapped lips, i look at your fingers, searching to hold a cigarette between your lips no words naive, i repeat "stay, stay", the train is coming it's time to live, you lift your suitcase (tightly tied) i see a rabbit with wet, bright eyes running, it's autumn, the leaves are like red crabs hanging in the trees, i clench my teeth, my hands, my eyes tighten, again determined i want to squeeze all the pain (i would make a fat must), i want to slap my face, so, i wake up to remember how in school i had to learn the names of every war battle, to learn the name of each river, bridge, the name of each soldier, if i knew them, i would be given a red pioneer tie (which needed to be ironed and kept close to my bed) at night stuffed like an old suitcase the train leaves, as if through the fog I see you on the platform: - do you want a cigarette, - thank you, i don't smoke. (the smoke rolls like a boa constrictor)