Passport

When we meet
even before smiling
I do the checklist
your eyes, still two
your ears, intact
your back, erect
in your passport photograph
your heartbeat has stopped though

I want to forget this photograph forever
sorry but the official stamp on your chest
does not look like a medal

I talk my heart to squirrels
since I know
they have the least interest in what I say
they are interested only in the breadcrumbs
the school children drop out of their lunchboxes
they hop around all day and wait
they have no urge for a leisurely talk
all they really care about is their tails
as they climb a tree

The passport is already here
visa on its way
so please don’t promise to write me letters

As soon as you are gone,
I will draft an appeal:
if ever, we meet again
you be me
and I, a squirrel