YOU

YOU

you, whom I love,
who twice
   (not once)
gave me
the gift of life

who are you?
where
are you?

nothing of what I am told
can I longer believe

imagining writing the text
saying the words that
will change the picture
transform
       everything

but there you are, at
my level,
      down to my
size

picking up stones
     rooting through the rubble

lest there be those
lost and forgotten

     erased by history

needing to be
found

     restored to memory