I look around at things in my room:
A pile of sweaters – never as warm as you,
Shelves of read books – I will buy a million more,
My brother’s monkey toy – my only companion the first week abroad.
A pinch of sorrow stings me:
All that matters to me will be gone one day.
But not you.
I will wipe the dust off you and keep you safe,
I will write poems about your smile, your hands, your voice,
Leaving paths to your recollection, your memory,
For everyone to visit, to revive you again.
After all, humans preserve artworks better than each other.
And when I am gone,
And my things are packed and put away,
You will stay, and people will know
How much more you meant to me
Than anything. Anything at all.
No one will borrow my favourite book.
Tastes will change, and the world will like new things,
But I will accept it –
If you get to remain.
Because if I could keep only one thing
For the rest of humanity,
Untouched, while time flows,
Like they preserve frozen seeds in the Arctic,
I would protect you.
Life is temporary,
But I cannot let you be.
Truly, I am happy,
If I was born only to keep you here forever.
And if I get to be remembered myself,
It would be an honour to be –
As someone loved and loving, by your side,
Because you are my most cherished treasure,
My favourite part of human history.
