You

Your eyes are as clear as mathematics

Two plus two is always four

No nose of doubt in between

Your lips are keys

Of an old typewriter

I press them hard with my lips

Printing your name

Over and over again

On the blank pages of my forehead

Your smile is a newspaper

I read it

Every morning

Every evening

And when the day is gone

I keep solving the crossword puzzle

                                           Of your long snarled hairs