Within my soul I am all of the ages of my days and moments. I am the vaults of heaven’s ramparts, for somehow, inside me, there is an eternal for each of the beings I have known, an avatar of them — and it is usually the age they were when last we met, or all the ages they have been, inside me… So when or if I discover or think of one from long ago, I am 7 or 12… or some other age that isn’t this one… and when I see they are now advancing in age… or no longer a teen, or child… there is a grave dissonance in my mind. To my heart they are still the age or ages I remember; though, by my logic, I understand. They have transformed.