the last time I saw you was soaked in summer and
sweat: four-square and hop-scotch abandoned on the
we wearied too quickly of childhood games.
your good-bye was drenched in distraction
a long drawn-out lullaby
withering on unsteady wings.
I tried to say it simply, but my poetry got in the way.
I tried to evolve into the dust between your
so that maybe a part of you would come to be
encased within my ribs.
I never could let go.
your smile faltered into the most beautiful
I have ever known.
I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry
and now that summer has
into an elegiac autumn,
I still cannot find the words.
what I thought was a soldier was only a toy-
I'm only as brave as I seem.