I am the one talking to the
Picture. Only if I knew your
Love could fade somehow,
Only if I knew when the storm
Would rain. I would have not
Loved you anyhow. I would
Have not walked with
You on the streets.

My tears were glasses to see
The pain. And my heart was
Tremendously beating plaintively.
I was holding the picture with
My left hand and the right to
My chest. Our memories are
Like the whistle in the dark.

Sorrow and shame were my
Guests to consoles. Bitterness
And tears were my friends to
I’m only left with the pain and
Her on the picture. Coincidentally,
They are with me at goodbye.
In fact, she had me at goodbye!