may 30

When the sun was named sun, and you learned the difference between silver and gold, you lost the sight of blue under the film of skin and bone. You lost your mother the day you broke your heart climbing the steps to your father's house. You left a grave empty in the yard, where the birdbath fell. I lost your hands when you ran to catch someone faster. I lost your name when I called for another in my sleep. I haven't put you back together, your nimble tricks are too quick to wait for a slow robotic shadow that only knows the ropes down. I only know the way out, and you are always thinking of ways up into the trees. You are a thief. I will never be a thief. I will always wish for what is mine. There are eyes on the other side of the windows that you pass on your way through the city, they hover over books, just waiting to catch a glimpse of your tale. Don't forget me. I will be in the hot summer bedroom of a girl in tears over her favorite song. The song will open up her arms and she will mouth the words that will form you.