“By its right name.”

Some say names possess a power,
the mystifying quantity and capacity
of communication and qualification--

the identity

the self

the essence

that cannot be set
in stone because its essence is fluidity
and it is changing and inconstant and--

but the name

the right name
nickname
first name
proper title 

it is in fact  
etched in concrete
on birth certificates
and fee waivers and
government documents
as much as it forms
the skin and
flows through each of us
deep within,

through our minds

off our tongues

into the mouths of

lovers; friends; acquaintances;
whispered in the dark; cherished as a spark; soon forgotten"

written on pieces of fine loose leaf paper
in the binders of our heart’s
scrolled in care
with dexterous precision
as we connect each line,
the letters that define
us and the love
we share, and

it is comforting
that despite the distance
we can write our names
close to/on top of each other,
if we so desire.

There’s no real barrier

for the love etched on the heart

and poured into the mouth

and the name that tastes like
honey on the tongue
and reminds of all the precious
moments passed
learning it from front to back,
every syllable and nuance
and spelling or shortening
and accent and tone,

and that somehow makes up
the concept of the person
we hold inside our hearts
and write about someday
in our notebooks or 
formal documents
or the novels
of our lives;

that power stays with us
till the end when memory fades
but we still remember that thing
that was said that time;

we still forget the day
we did not forget
the name
because it became
so deeply embedded
in the bedrock
that makes up the
connection between
you and me and the earth
everyone we love--

and hope to one day call

by their one,

true, ineffable
right name
by which
we; I; you--
long to
one day

be called, too.