Once I saw a name
On one of my 100 days
Then a cloud flew
Over the same night
Sweeping away a story
Leaving an end
Hanging silently
With no word
Just my throbbing heart
Counting how long spaces were.
Then I asked you
"Did I really see
You?"
—

graphs of my Universe
Once I saw a name
On one of my 100 days
Then a cloud flew
Over the same night
Sweeping away a story
Leaving an end
Hanging silently
With no word
Just my throbbing heart
Counting how long spaces were.
Then I asked you
"Did I really see
You?"
—

Though not a true ID,
Your name ships all senses to
An existence.
A name that I spell slowly,
A name representing silence and unattendance,
Almost ignorance.
Is
Your name
A password
To where a gap between real and unreal resides?
Is
Your name
A padlock
With which a visitor busily matches the key?
Is
Your name
Sugar leaf
With which a cup of tea gets sweetened with its dissolving?
Is
Your name
Coffee powder
Which settles at the bottom of a cup after its releasing caffein and acidity?
Is
Your name
A myth
That resembles history?
Tell me
The story of
Your name.
Your name
That
I slowly spell
Every time
A face flickers
Around this nerve system.
—
Indeed a name isn’t a true ID. The ID is more than just the given name.
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