Forever engraved on some deep cerebral sulcus,
More than a number, a name, an exchange, an identity,
Not to be punched robotically on some enmaciated pocket toy,
But caressed with gentle rotary care,
Feeling each digital click
Kinesthetically in some deep mucle sense
Connoting Home.
Still today on ancient closet relic,
Secretely I dial up visions of lives long gone.
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