Everyone tries to save you.
They give you tickets to the cinema,
sweet popcorn, pick you up in a taxi,
and you, today, feel like breaking down.

Your friend appears behind the blue veil of the curtain, the doorbell scratches the silence of the living room,
You open the door and her smile pretends
give you the sun and you, at least today,
you want to break

They gave you self-help books for your birthday, patchouli and mushrooms and expensive wines,
cheese and fish left on your table
bronze sailors
naked mermaids, the sea and its shellfish
They hand you over but you, today and today,
you need to break yourself.

And it's not so bad to hear the wind give birth.
And it's not so bad to lie and abandon
the gray line, autumn tastes like coffee.
The grinding of love gives you its fields.
And you.

Clinics. Journals. Beds and blessed gods. Pets that lick you
hands and you, at least today, caress yourself to break.