We have a lot of history
You and I
Met when I was eight
And you were brand new.
Been locked in combat ever since
Creating insignificant battles
About family matters and such.
You are my mirror and I am yours.
I see my soul reflected in your eyes
As you reveal me back to me.
And I remember us in black and white
And various shades of gray
From childhood photos
We share in picture albums
Removed gently from the drawer of my heart
When I need to see how the puzzle pieces fit.
Sisters live on pedestals
Protect you from reality
Feed you breakfast
Let you crash till noon
When you trespass through their lives
Idols are not vulnerable, and
Certainly not human, like you.
I arrived first to teach you
But you taught me…
Through my scrapbook of memories
Where I go to find minute pieces of a puzzle
So I can make them fit
I see you standing at my back door
Freezing and damp at 4 am
In black leather, in the dark dawn
Holding an old tattered guitar
After you’d hitchhiked all night
To sing Puff the Magic Dragon
To your new baby nephew…
…My newborn son.