Namesake

He had a name.He has an eponym.It is still deeply rootedin the center of my heart.And though I trynot to utter his name,play with the two syllables,my heart echoes itfrom some mystical placeI can never reach. He has a name.It is a nounand every so oftenit carries an adjective,attaching a memoryto the few small letters.Sometimes they are loving words,others not so sweet…. If every man I’ve lovedclung so tightlyI would have drownedin an ocean ofdescriptive despairfull of letters and sounds. But he had a name.He has a beautiful pseudonym.I can’t seem to release itto the vastness of the universebecause it returns,boomeranged with force,periodically into my words,smiling in its relief. His name is implanted,crisscrossed into mine,for what seems a foreverand ever of a lifetime.