TINY CLINGING CURLS

I remember you
looking almost

Audrey Hepburn-ish.

My big sister
& oh...that smile!

Touching my world
with the wonder of your

love.

We are Christmas-ing
the place

living in the candle's
glow

love
nothing but love

in almost slow motion.

The holly bites
your little finger.

I ****
the drop of blood

that grows
& grows

until it is
kissed better.

You laugh:
'Ah...my little saviour! '

and sigh with an almost
mock Victorian swoon.

Tiny curls cling
to the nape of your neck

like the tiniest
of tiny seahorses.      

We swim
in the sea

of our laughter.

The next Christmas
you were dead

lost to this
world

leaving me
alone

to mourn
you.

I...unable to
save you.

Now...all these years
later

(years you never knew)      

the holly
bites my little finger

& I **** it
quickly

tasting through
my tears

the sweet tang
of your blood

still so alive
in my mouth.