You thought of me, the last time before giving up completely.
Before the shape of man and woman disappeared.
Before that hole you had inside of you took over everything.
You thought of me and you laid your hands, shaping me.
Bare shoulders, bent hips, legs crossed just like when I was waiting to see you as I absent-mindedly prepared myself.
The long dress you gave me and the mirror I always carried with me, to be worthy of you.
Starting from tomorrow I will look for you in your slashes and maybe I will be less beautiful,
but certainly deeper.
