without a voice

last year
I packed you
into a blog,
into a frame,
into a space
with a form,
without a name

today,
I took you down
from that wall
where my eyes
loved to linger,
every now and then

I packed you
again,
this time,
into a box
I'll open
maybe in a year,
or maybe not

with other pictures
framed, lifeless,
and flat,
in another place
without a form,
without a name,
without a voice

yet,
still,
my appa.