Here lies a collection of all the years that passed
since I started holding a pen, or typing what was in mind
it keeps growing and has been with me longer than the years themselves
longer, I have kept you
than analog and digital formats of rolled-film cameras
than the times I decided it was easier to let go
longer I have kept you
than the faith that I have lost and regained
than the clothes that I have worn and given away
longer I have kept you
than the flight-time between the axis and the point of origin
than the longings made over cereal boxes
longer I have kept you
than the times I thought my friends were made up from love and hate
than the education I received in the daily
longer I have kept you
than the anniversaries I have made in my head
while I sat with folded table clothes and beaten jeans
longer I have kept you
four years to be exact, I poured into you words
then you gave me a scene off a high skyscrapers
an understanding that transcended even my own understanding.
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