sister
at some point in your genetic history sprung from your dna was a small stain
of darkness that oozed like tar through the folds of your brain. it rested,
waiting.
all my life i tried my best to capture you
to paint the joy of quibbling sisters the whining wayward notes of our
quarrels. the piano duet scott joplin you on white keys me on black.
but the tar spread soaking your mind
you crashed your car
handed your credit card to strangers
wandered out at night
fell down. fell over. fell a lot.
looped
looped
looped
looped
looped
ended up in a nursing home at 64.
it broke me to watch you disappear. i could not face the slow loss your empty eyes. your broken brain repeating time: it's 1:52 now. it's 1:53 now. it's 1:54 now. my big sister your smile from a wheelchair and your stiffened limbs.
they say when i was a baby if you held me, i would stop crying. who am now that you don't exist
