Lesser and lesser

The first man who left
is in town for a month
and he brings color
back to sunflowers.

It's summer again,
last time we saw each other
there were so many
lights,
butterflies,
strangers,
I couldn't speak,
he must have noticed.
I've been speaking lesser and lesser.

I like saying things in poems
which some believe to be about nobody
but happen to be about people
who come and go because
life is like this
and just a few close observers
can tell.

The first man who left is in town,
we have changed considerably
over the course of the past five years.

I've been speaking lesser and lesser.