First your father fell to his knees
trying to reach through to his own heart
when you were nineteen.
Then your mother closed her eyes
when I was eleven
as we ate dinner with our breath held.
Four years ago your brother fell asleep
and laid cold until morning
on the new oriental rug.

But you waltz around it,
and the numbered steps are there
for anyone to follow.

05/15/2012

Posted on 05/15/2012
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