September

I.
Somewhere on the spectrum between
soft-spoken & bean-pole bodied
my sweet sibling, you graze the surface of solid ground

II.
I am lucky to catch you in fractions of time
as your eyes speak to me often, only to tell me you have gone elsewhere
floating in outer space maybe, with meteors and comets and space dust
or shipyards and computer parts and words in french I could never begin to understand

III.
You come back every now & then
to say “Hi!” and tell me you love me with small tokens
like smiling at a joke you didn’t quite hear
or telling me about your favorite book

IV.
Before traveling off again
you speak to me quietly
eyes amused, sleepy, spacey
Happy, I hope.

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