There is something stay stuck

When I take of the photo from the wall

What if I consolidate entering my fingers in the pressed (sleeping) air

                                                  under the photo's paper?

Do I need to a blade to scratch the remains of her face?

And some left (details) from her shirt

And slivers from the glass that she tried to drink from?

And what if I desired to drink some

 From what she left in the glass

And seduced by her shirt remains

To smell what to last from her perfume on the wall

And what if she smiled

When my fingers draw near of her lips

Do they were kissing the wall

In same time I was thinking to pull out her photo?

And why I don't catch the wisdom

From the painter's silence

And put the photo in a frame?

Did I were in need to all this age

Wounding my fingers every day

And reaper by my blood

Remains of a photo

I am not excel to take off

And a wall?