The last person to say my name
Carries the final burden of memory
How I laughed
Who I loved
How I loved
Cereal
Who didn’t love me
my joys, my passions
My gypsy butterfly hair
All.
The flaws and beauty
The ferocity of my feelings
How I never gave up or in
Who I was to them
The last person to say my name
Carries the final essence of me
After I will wither into a yellowed image
A photograph gathering stardust
in a vintage shop, just like the others
So don’t be gentle when you say my name for the last time
Yell it, laugh with it, please make it dance on your tongue as it lingers in the air
for a final bow
Mara
