Over the years
I am reminded of your strength
by the willingness of your skin to turn numb
while still facing the inability to assume
that all will be well
that we will all make it one day
to wherever and whatever
we were meant to be

You hold time so preciously
as it slowly effaces the existence around you
losing count of the years
rolling with the punches of experience
from one decade to the next

The power in our numbers dwindling
like a colorful assortment of balloons
holding closely together
but one by one
into the open skies
never to be seen again

You remind yourself
when you are left alone
when the balloons are no longer together
that a single balloon
can still signify a celebration and bring joy
can light up eyes and cause pleasant surprise
a single balloon can still be
everything anyone ever wanted
without the need to ever ask why

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