If you forget me,
forget me in a little box
on the floor in the corner of your closet
so that every once in a while
when you are going through your summer shorts
a hanger will fall to the floor, and
as you bend to pick it up
your hand will brush against that little box
and you, having long forgotten what was inside
will open it
and once again remember
every time I made you smile.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem