I remember how thick life became when you entered it.
You broke my pillars to my mind's dominion,
Shattered like crystals on the cold dusty floor.
I remember how clean you were,
So tall and strong and sturdy,
You are the farmer's prized plough horse
Yet he keeps your name from the town's prying eyes.

The picture of grace in a masculine frame!
How my own shell, feminine by birth,
Could not compare to its wispy movements,
Calculated and precise,
Chaste, pure, fast,
Unforgiving.
No room for breath in a sight so eloquent and
Visually forceful
As your graceful footfalls
When they pierce the barricades that stand
Weaker in your path.
There was no speck of dirt in your fingernails,
Your hair a billowing chestnut wave,
Snowy eyes smiled only so often,
And was your soul as clean?
(I believed, dear, that it was)

Son, you moved me like a mustard seed moved a mountain
And with those dancer's arms you spread them wide
And ascended to a height we don't know yet.

My little canary
My dear, sweet, fierce child
Pure as a bar of soap

I hope this calls you back to me
Someday.