If I am to teach you all there is
to being human, first, I need to know
your name. And you must promise
to keep what’s shared between us
a secret—no one can know
I gave you the key to existence,
a true human experience, free of any
expectations that, years from now,
you will remember this story differently
(build a library and trust its volumes,
despite what anyone tells you). You’ll find
your tears will not leave your eyes
until they’re ready—a joyful pain,
to shed, if temporarily, the heart
you carry (learn its weight and you will
know more than I can teach you).
Do you understand? Remind me—
what is your name, again?
Why has it changed?