I remove stones, slowly,
from the rocky ground of my memory.

I detach thorns, one by one,
from the rose of my life.

I dry tears,
that slide, laughing,
down the slide
of a playground.

I gather the seed,
slammed against
the wall of a blind alley,
and give it sight again.

I rejoice at the dream
of still knowing myself intact
and being able to see you again,
outside the frozen lake.

I see the world
and discover myself a grain of sand,
wanting to blend into the beach,
with the others.

Then,
I mix it all
in the tank of tomorrow,
and wait.