8/6/17 3:17
Sister

She looks like you.
Pale and eyes full of longing.
Sand shifting through the hourglass
of her body.
Calculated.
Were you always this hard?
I could sharpen my intentions
on the
slab of roman concrete
your nose.
I always envied you,
your curves.
Your pooling bust and
rumbling hips.
But it’s your wrists that I miss
most of all
Small wrists keeping the sky
from crashing down.