for Sarah
who had a long face and walked into a bar with me and ordered sambuca because "it looks like cum when you chill it"
one more year and it will be two decades since I heard her laughter
wild and desperate and a little embarrassed
people do wring their hands when they worry
not all, but some
she was one of them
she talked with her hands, too
hands flying about in near frantic gesticulation and on more than one occasion accidentally bumping into my face, my arm, in the height of explanation
Sarah who drew little aliens with eyestalks and trees with big grinning faces
who couldn't handle her liquor or much more than three beers
who was innocent, angry and lost
wicked smart, creative, hilarious
kind
and sometimes a bitch
I think I love her even more, now that I understand her better
now that I understand myself
there are days when she is so alive I could pick up the phone and call her
just to catch up
days when I see her living her grown-up life
just like me
days when she is there, silver-streaked with crows feet and her slender-lipped smile
we got older, I tell her
all of us
we got older, but I brought you with me
I didn't let you die young
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