.::19::.

So rent a museum/and see yourself in mirrors-/in every room an exposition/of a different phase of your life/ with all your figures and faces/and pictures of all the people who passed through you/and all the scenes you passed through/all the landscapes of living/ and longing and desiring/and spendind and getting/and doing and dying/and sighing and laughing and crying/(what antic gesturing!)./And walking trhough the house of yourself/you climb again to all/the rooms of yourself/full of the other lives & selves/ who passed through them/Rooms rooms rooms/pilled up haphazard/in the architecture of tim/and all the bodies clinging to each other/or rushing windows/to break out of the room/which they boxed themselves into/ all the people of your life/in one house in the night/like a cruise ship at sea/and you run up and down/knocking on all the doors/ through which you hear/all the once-familiar voices/ laughing or sobbing or singing/and you run to the roof/and look up to the mute night sky/ and in the wheeling template of stars/see the faces the figures/ of the lovely lovers who/had once made time stand still/ now all fixed in their constellated relations/motionless in time

So that

some day

as time bends around/to its beginning again

you find them all again

and yourself

(Lawrence Ferlinghetti)

19