Pablo José Mejia
Self-proclaimed “healing”
Do not mistake my intention
My eyes are not aligned for your erasure
I slowly become accustomed to your absence,
And if you decide that you want your footprints to be covered for good
I will settle
But the sliver is alive
And I still listen for your call
I still hope for the wiping of my shoes on the doormat of your little wooden home
Where I entrusted you with carnal weight,
Which I hope you are keeping safe in your back pocket
I am not opposed to taking up more space in your photobook
And if you tap me on the shoulder,
My arms will open
I recognize the contradiction
And I wish I were simpler
This is what I am landing on
You do not have to be a stranger anymore