The lives of the people I half-remember

Take me only Halfway of the distance

Between the place where their hearts once beat

And the treble sound in my own chest,

Where once, I had more

Than half a heart.

The lives of the people I half-remember

Carry me halfway across the canyon

Between now

And where I want to be,

Where I long to be;

Save I can only travel to that promised land

By halves.

The lives of the people I’ve half-forgotten

Were cleaved into parts;

They, too, felt the cool blade
Of the guillotine.

They, too, wish to be carried more than halfway

Across the chasm that has risen between us.

They do not share the luxury

Of forgetting; rather, they remember me,

Entire.