Eight years my senior,
I wonder what I would have thought of him as a child
if I would really think of him at all. I could
have become quite obsessed, worry about his whereabouts past
my bedtime, when I should be asleep and he is anywhere
being almost a man. It could be frantic
or peaceful – like what is called the wise mind.
I had it as a child more than I do today, an inner confidence
that he might put his hand to my face
and give me the time of day,
have the deep attachment of two friends who cannot
break trust. Then again, it is much more difficult to hurt a kid’s
heart and not want to piece it back together again.