Magic
In the palm of my hand as I call up
Your image
Your preferred diet
Sacrifices, rituals, holy texts
Your name above all names
Buried in the archives of my address book under an absurd nickname
And I forgot you
In the land of my fathers
Iliad, Odyssey, Epic of Gilgamesh
To tire is to live
To die is to be born
And I have never lacked
A good story.
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