every space not taken by my sister, my little sister bee, whose birth i watched nineteen years ago today, and who i was first to hold.
i'm sorry we can't get past our lives to find a middle ground. i love you.
* samantha *
we exist together only in these photographs, static
and two-dimensional. i love you out of habit.
strange little chrysalis, small and unripe
in my mind forever. i have not known your process or life,
you, who may also have my mother’s hands—
i haven’t seen them lately, i would not know. i can’t
escape thoughts of you thinking of me.
i fear in this exact moment you are feeling like an only
child. sometimes i have to remind myself that you are
real… for more than half your life we have lived apart
and i have missed everything, each word we should have shared,
but then i would not have picked them as carefully. now there
is so much lost in the endless sky between where i am and
las vegas. do you keep me in the back of your mind,
sister—do your memories, like mine, deceive?
or do you listen close at night, to see if you can hear me breathe?