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My Name



I cannot remember my name, or
I cannot remember why I delighted in it once.
My name—or is it my body?
My body remembers things I have forgotten,
but it communicates them back to me poorly—
much is lost.  Much is being lost
every day, every moment.
Why did I believe it was worth holding on to?
I can't remember.
Once I remembered how to forget,
forgetting became the only thing I delighted in;
my name could not, at last, compete with my body,
this same body which began to fail
the day I was born.

All poems are written and copyrighted by Michael C. Rush.
None may be republished or repurposed without permission.