Where did you go, my long-lost friend?

Growing up, I learned from my mother

Who sang your virtues, triumphs, and worth.

She called you holy or whole or simple.

Ever elusive, you, an abstract idea,

Invested in me, the guilty vestibule,

once piqued a guardian embarrassment,

a Red-faced heat before honed stares.

 

A Google search bore nothing, mere

Letters dancing 1s and 0s, but not you,

My once hero-now-gone-missing-sister,

A wife to wicked hissing serpent sins.

Last seen among the silent ones, a

Mute testimony and vibrational grasping,

you, your innards sparkling clear waters to wind,

I miss you, motionless, paralyzed by lies.