we measure
time. the hours spoon
fed
to us.
the months boxed,
the years
stored in the attic
with mothballs.
the edges of photographs
curled yellow.
the film
scratched with our
young faces, our voices.
the year books
crusted
in dust, the inked
inscriptions intact.
remember this,
remember that,
don't ever change, stay
just the way
you are.
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