I find it written everywhere,
Your name in your small hand,
Careful scrawls on books and walls
In paint and snow and sand:
The Double You
The careful Aye
The double Em
Before the Why.
It used to be a pictograph
That I could not translate
But every signature I find
That’s of a later date
Becomes a little sharper,
A little clearer than before
Coming into focus,
Every day a little more.
Like the features of your face,
(All babies look the same)
But yours are written on my heart
And so too is your name.
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