Temporal

you don't want to be forgotten.

you want a tiny pinprick in your spine every time your name slides down a praising tongue

you want a little goose bump on your wrist

when someone passes you with a second glance of recognition

you don't want to fade away.

it's obvious

and understandable

but I wish I couldn't dissect this as easily as I think I have

because I like it when I don't understand you quite so quickly.

you're complex.

so maybe I could tell you

not to worry.

you're not a vibrant, teeming, trembling leaf

that people pluck and carefully put into the folds

of an old white book that smells of paste

and put it away on a shelf

and move it to the attic

and put it in a bin

and sell it at a garage sale

for a quarter and a dime.

I know

you don't want to be forgotten

and for what it's worth

your name always dances on my nose

and slides through my brain

and steams out my ears

and mists down my cheeks

and always marches out of my mouth

like a defiant little soldier

who knows there will be roses

on his grave.

and my words may not be immortal

but when they fall

they make a sound.