Little Sister left me a message. I can’t say I understand why unless someone else has been hospitalized. Pictures of her dog to share, perhaps tense conversation having nothing to do with everything I don’t tell her. We build our own clans with friends and secret brethren, far away from the interference of the past. Roots go deep, are hidden. So it is with families. You slide your words around the real issues:
am I still taking my pills?
Is that a bruise or a bite?
Why am I happy to still be such a deviant?
Giggling abruptly, passing it off as a hiccup, I ask about the house you’re buying. Even I’m not aware how far down the spiral goes, but you? You are clueless and will stay that way.
Snow White, Rose Red, you and I. You took the kiss, sleepy, insecure and forever following after. My fist to your eye was the apple.
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