It is not by accident
that I have been well removed
from the living parts of me
and what is left
remembers so much more than
your closeness on desperate nights
that warmed every coldness I possessed.
Things break and I think
There has got to be some indestructible someone.
Like, I don’t believe in any “invincible” but I want to.
Even when I see your pain is discreet
I try to touch it
and every touch has a stilled sound.
a dozen
paces away.
Yeah, The ultimate revelations in life are never glacial
they are so swift and they burn
into my skin like a serial number,
some thing that must identify me
if not define me entirely.
Personal histories don’t make the books
No one here I know is impressed by fossils
that aren’t of animal and plants in the strata
of remote past
and history only remembers you if you’re Caesar
Jesus or Columbus or whatever.


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