Changed

She held me.

Changed.

Tighter.

I guess we both knew.

It was always then. Our hands in hers, as the cliff edge crumbled beneath. Before the sickness took us murmuring to loneliness on the shores edge.

Babes in the wood scared you, you said.Hidden in storybooks and pine scented trees. We played make believe that we were in chapter 1. Loneliness dreams with intermittent laughter. As the tell tale ticking was passing.

That day the heat was oppressive, stiff throat. Dry tongue. Again and again psalms like pace telling each other we loved one another. Vacant held gasp with the anticipation of grief.

She knitted the wire. As I told her my lifetime of guilt. Her hands never forgot those stitches of time. Feeling the needles As I dropped glass and spoon. Useless in those moments. Amongst recollections and the stories came.

Rosaries. Frankincense. Prayers.Pilates.Laughter. Tears.

My sister. Memories that shaped us. Make me stronger. Especially when seen weaker. Truth is inevitable.

Time lost to priorities.Like a silent glass curtain the heat radiated. Both sisters simultaneously said goodbye to our safety net, not believing our own words as we told her we would be fine. She accepted this final attempt of promises. She left.

No more second chances. I remember her holding me. Her hand in mine. Mine in hers keeping her safe. Her hands in mine keeping me safe. As all falls back before she needed me to keep her safe.

Before I couldn’t any longer keep her safe. When her hands slipped out of mine.

Before her hands stopped holding.

Before silenced grief paused shallow breath fell to soft vignettes of cheek filled buttery cherry pies in warm sweet acidic conifer shadowed hafod and climbing rough trees in gold wind lit hot days.

She held me. She holds me still.