Brother, I am lost for you
and my DNA is aching at my chest
from all this separation and I think the world has died.

Brother, I have lost the purpose of our relation
since it is last that we saw each other and
we said so little that it is rather nothing that the dust
can count beyond it's persuasion, to be nothing but decoration--mere decoration.

Brother, it is memories that I have misplaced and
have leapt up from behind curtains to reveal themselves,
a truer kind of simplicity is yet unknown, and these
memories make fools of us, innocent yet, these fools that are laughter
and kindness and the sanctity of our familiarity until it has been,
as now,
lost in an adulthood of places that we'd rather be and
obligations that we have signed our names onto.

Brother, it is not a contract that has forgotten you,
but a sister in her sweatshirt and her torn jeans
staring from her house's window
wondering where on the Earth her brother is, this brother
for whom she saves the most precious memories, even
the ones that destroy the character she's created.

Brother, how I miss you
and I worship the ground that we kissed with our bare heels
on the days when we both worshipped the hurricanes that stole our school days
and made them our days of adventure.

12/22/2007

Posted on 12/22/2007
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