I’m the luckier of the two of us
I get to see you
In a way you could never see yourself
The better way to look at you
A way that’s not in a reflection
Or in a photograph
In a way that allows me to see how your eyes light up
When you talk about your passions
How your smile crinkles more to the left
When your eyes are closed
How every part of you glows when you feel love
And believe me I crave every part of that glow-
Especially your eyes, the kind you could get lost in
And I guess I did
And since I am the luckier of us two
I promise to always look closely
And to always tell you intimately
Of all the things about you, you aren’t lucky enough to see.

You look your best mid-swig
The way your neck bends
And water or beer or sweet tea
Flows down your throat
And I know your thirsts are quenched-
When you look surprised your eyes
Open real wide and your eye brows
Tip-toe to barely kiss the bottom of your hair line-
Unless you're wearing a hat
That you like best backwards
And these are the little things that I hope only I notice
So that if you were ever to go missing only I-
Could describe you accurately
I'll describe all of these little things
To the lead detective
And I'd tell him about
How the bridge of your nose crinkles
When you **** in your cheeks
And blow out air.

These inkstained fingers
bare my soul
naked and spiralling
I deceive myself with your memory.
It was you,
the first touch
on naked flesh
too young to grasp
the magnitude.
It was I
that loved your every breath
never questioning that I belonged
right there
within the warmth of your laugh.
It was time
that showed me it was a lie.

When eyesight dims and hearing fades,
when even memory wanders,
then the griefs and pains of age
might prompt one to fly yonder.
Our sister, Maya, was great of soul
and wears this cage no longer.
Her wondrous words still sing to us
if we but stop and ponder.