I have spent my life forgetting him
leaving him
a fading childhood memory
a shadow of comfort captured in a warm towel
tucked gently under my arms
My footed pajamas padded after him
a cold tiled floor
a window fogged with condensation--
toddler indignation.
Pre-adolescence called him
turning his back to me
Wishing cannot create memories
cannot recreate what three years could not hold
or more than infancy will surrender
Somewhere I am a sister trying to hold a brother
who hardly heard her speak |
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