Sometimes I surprise myself

when I'm alone. I hear
a man

letting out
an exhausted sigh

a heave than a breath.
That man

who doesn't feel any remorse
on stepping at snails

who finds himself transfixed, late
at night at the spin dryer

who nods at himself
while making lists

who looks up only to gather
a misplaced thought

dismissing the shapes one can find
in each cloud.