Long last the memory

Long last the memory.

I am returned
To the place where my self
Comes and goes

That self which knows
Only the journeys
Memories as sleights of hand

The physical being
A carapace
Lost in space

I am solid here
Amongst the debris
That roots and puts a roof on me

My flesh and blood
The beating tic
I represent

Alone as always
In familiarity
Asking forever to be known

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