Our Life in a Cassette

O yes, I know what I would hear
if I chose to rewind the tape:
voices recorded over
music, recorded over
more voices, music and voices…

This one I preserved in a box,
like a relic or a fetish
from the glorious Seventies,
to extract like an ice core
when memory has ceased to work.

The last conversation we had,
the last song we sang together:
in the first half of that tape,
we are still young and hopeful –
the other half remains unplayed.

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