On a crumpled paper that floated up to me
I wrote a few words of longing and hope
Under my pillow, its wrinkles absorbed my worries
The cold, weighted night etched with my memories
In the morning, I made a kite
But there was no one to hold my thread
So I tied it to myself and ran
We flew in opposite directions but together
The wind tore through us until we became one
Then my steps faltered, and the tether broke
I looked behind to an empty street stretched out
This time, I went in search to find what I lost
At the crossroad, in a hand reaching out to it