On A Name

15Nov2024 [poetry]

I never liked my name until I heard it from their mouth.

It comes with a lot of baggage. My father’s name. Deeply influenced by a religion I don’t agree with, and that doesn’t agree with me.

I dislike when people shorten it, but I’ve not been comfortable enough with it to argue for it. The way it sounded never quite worked.

Until I heard them say it.

She calls my name, but softly, not to claim and to enclose, but to beckon, wide open.

He speaks my name, and he speaks with his heart.

You whisper my name.

Your lips hold each syllable, and release, and my name goes free, and I follow.