POSSIBLE

it's possible

I be into me

for a bite of any second

among all of the ones

those the cosmos

throws away

through the time window.

though

I ever want to try

to gather,

so put them in my pockets.

it'd be possible so,

that I forget you within it.

however,

as soon as I can reach

whatever

that comes from you,

a bit of the sound

of your laugh,

a bit of the shine

of your eyes,

then I can get me back

to me.

so all of my seconds

melt and drain

through my holed pocket,

freeing themselves

to give back

a kind of dense cheer

which takes place only

on the hard

(but so soft)

surface of reality.