Today I make you the world's smallest man.
You are so small I open my hand and you dance
on the great landscape of my palm.

You are a thin stick of a man. When you stretch out
along my life line, your feet touch my wrist
and your head rests below my índex finger.

You are a small man, but like a small dog
you are unaware of your size. Sometimes
you go missing for days then jump out

and shout "surprise"! But you do not mean surprise.
I decide to make you smaller, the size
of an insect. Now you can walk upside down.

I think of all the places I could leave you
now you are smaller than the lightest
water boatman, but you keep shrinking

till you are less than a grain of salt,
so small you are living on my skin.
And once I breathe, I breathe you in.

by Kim MOORE, in "THE POETRY REVIEW", Volume 104:4, Winter 2014

(photo taken from Internet; edited by Armando TABORDA)