Sister

You used to brush my teeth before bed

while I stood on the toilet lid,

and tonight we talk about grief.

You held my small heart

in your hands and refused to scold it

for being restless.

I called you when I saw a bug

in my apartment too big to crush

and you gave me courage.

You called me when

you had a rental car with big speakers

and we tooled around with

the bass the only thing between us.

Love, terror, history, pain, joy,

a future we create with our own

bloody knuckles.

There is no place I would not go with you.