the fragrance of fresh bread, you
loved the flavour melting in your mouth
with butter and fried eggs, the white
softened by slow beating, almost cooked

breezed by trains at sunrise, the tall windows
opening to a confusing city, each rooftop
sheltering a different race, you left home
at times reeking of the earlier day, your shirt
tucked in to be tucked out later 

and at the same door where the newspaper,
milk, flyers about a certain gym
and notices from companies crowded
I let you say goodbye every day
your hands caressing the latch as they let go
I would always watch you wait for the elevator
a few seconds before you disappeared 



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