Goodbye

When you have six months left to live

in a city,

You start looking at things differently. 

The streets intertwine with 

Nostalgia

already hushed rushed glowing 

like a rosebud in the green green

Forest 

filled with all the limbs 

that have traversed this body

of water. 

You start seeing all the fragments of 

Faces

that have seen

You

One way or another. 

*

When you have three months left to live

in a city,

You start looking at things with tenderness.

The streets intertwine with 

softness

already hushed rushed glowing

like heather blowing

in the fields

Fleshy transluscent fields that 

fill my eyes 

with gold.

*

When you have one month left to live

in a city

You start looking at things

like they are

and your heart breaks a little because it was always whole

in a million little pieces. 

*