He put his bag on the floor

he lay next to me, raised one leg

and leaned it against the wall

as if to leave

a fleshy mark on it,

a faint human trace

the other leg was resting

on the cool cement

suddenly as if he remembered

something very important

he got up

walked to the table

leaned down and smelt

the last bloomed rose, then

he let a sigh float

in the darkened room

as if to release

burden of his last breath,

silence truthfully adhering

to heartbeats slow, fading,

and without a word

he collapsed on the cool cement