I know myself
alone and
I cannot keep
breathing if
no one knows my
name
my face and
frame or
the thoughts I
think or
the things I
hold dear
a birth
certificate with fading words
on folded yellow
paper
records time, place
and parent
nothing to tell
of
the candles on
my birthday cakes
my love for
James Arthur
or the tears I
shed when he left
you know those
things – my memories shared
you know I exist
because I
reached out and
entrusted you
with “me”
and in the
touching and embracing of you
and him and her
and they
I became
something more than just “me”
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