Spring is a placeholder.
It reminds me of a time;
I held my breath, a little too long,
but I would not lose face, not in front of my brother.
Someone had to show him, someone had to put him in his place.
But now he lives in Charlotte and his daughter doesn’t call anymore.
He was so in love, once.
I had tried so hard to imagine what that must have been like.
I can’t even picture her now. What was her name?
It doesn’t matter.

She doesn’t matter–he tells himself.