Object Permanence

Published by Coffee People, 2021

I want to slip into something more comfortable— a name that nobody has called me yet, perhaps after the swirling breeze that tangles itself in the sturdy branches of the maple tree, or the hums of the meadowlark that reverberate by the river side. I don’t know if any name is sufficient to describe you or me or us. If it isn’t stated, if it isn’t witnessed, it does not exist, it isn’t here. As if to give language to something is to Voice a name that can then be forgotten. There’s something to be said about permanence, right? Yet, every morning when we wake up, Swathed by warm amber sunlight, I’m surprised that you’re still beside me, and, When you call me by my name, I know, and I know, and I know. I let myself be named, and I know.