Things

by Roksolana Zharkova

I will remember you

Even after memory loss,

Losing you like a sandal off my foot in very tall grass,

like an earring from my left ear when I was little,

like a panama hat from my head in a strong wind from the sea,

like the letters of a language I didn't learn at school,

like the streets of a city I've never been to,

like the suitcase I happily carried,

like an umbrella (I often lost umbrellas

I left them on buses

or at bus stops,

on park benches,

in the corridors,

in someone's apartment,

in hotels,

or... ),

why do people get lost?

As things, as words, as something,

that should never be left behind....

Please don't get lost,

don't get lost,

don't get...

don't...