michelle_my_belle164241
07-15-2005, 08:15 PM
We learned to tie our own shoelaces, Then walked out on each other. Neither of us wears Our father's name.No family crystal to gather for our gaze, Our heritage is a history of walls: As cold as The Iron Curtain, As broken as the Brandenburg Gates. No models but a muscular mother tough as prayer book leather.Two tiny tots nine hot dogs high, how we hugged each other with nightmares, not even inner space to protect us from dormant monsters with daddy's face.Reunited future shock years later, by the loss of that father.A family more split than the fault lines in the collision between Europa and North America; My sister and I cannot look at Old Country pictures of rosaries and rue reposed on dead relatives, dropped into our lives like leaves from sacred oaks.Out of leftover love, we discover what it is to be sister and brother, trade a dahlia for a kiss, hesitant to touch hands.Her warmth is the sum of summer. Her eyes, blue of my blue,A doll found in the riverIf you could, just go over what each line means, as some parts don't make sense to me. Thanks