The same Date every year
Is not the same date every year.
Babies, lovers, ghosts
I lose track of each date
you meant something to me
or corrupted sense
or disrupted control.
Each signal day
allows you an hour of
concentration-a wide
yawn of remembrance
an almost return trip
through time. Really,
my dripping saints,
I wait on these name days,
I whisper.
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