I’m learning to count behind the numbers
where Quantity keeps an inventory of all the ages you’ve been.
You’ve been three, four, eighteen and twelve.
Thirty four, nineteen, seven.
You’ve been behind the numbers without knowing it.
Like a slow reader trying to keep up with his classmates.
You are here.
They are there.
is where the numbers start to love you, lean into you, grow curious about you
this is where the numbers stare at you just like you’ve stared at them trying to calculate all they can do
I promise, Quantity does not want you divided away from her
You are not multipliable.
You do not need to be added with something else to have value
You are value.
And Quantity only wants to take away the moments where you do not feel her
Quantity only wants you to feel her.
Behind the numbers, behind the months, behind the letters
there is an inventory of growth that looks just like you.
It remembers the first time you heard an echo
The first time a laugh made you snort or cry
It remembers your first reflection
and it will remember your last.