“Of two sisters one is always the watcher, one the dancer.”

she is a fighter is a cast iron skillet buried then unburied in the backyard is a daisy is a flame & an old Camaro on the highway & she is a tool shaped like a scalpel is a mask is blood on your fingertips is a song you play on repeat is glitter on your bathroom floor & she is a sigh is a whisper is a shaft of sunlight through the blinds is a thief is a crying little girl is sobs is a broken arm & she is an old clay pot & cracked windshield & empty used car lot & shimmering constellation & shimmering constellation & a star in a shimmering constellation on fire all by its lonesome & she is a cigarette smoldering in an ashtray is a fool is a drunk is a lover of small animals is a walking stick is a thorn in my palm & she is a bantamweight boxer who punches like she just wants to dance is a grave on a hill is a harsh word a look a touch the scent of something sweet like sugar cookies but not sugar cookies & she is thunder is lightning is a deep inner voice cracking is air is the nightingale still singing is cold is hiccups caught in the throat is imagination is hope & she is a deep breath is a daydream is tragic is joy is magic is guardrails is a storm at sea is & is & is & is & is & is & is
& is my sister

 

-For R.

Day 12 of 30

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