thicker than water

I KNEW OF COURSE that it was a mistake to attend my sister's funeral, but when you have done so many mistakes already, does another one on top of the pile make any difference? Besides, the dreaded truth was doomed to be unraveled sooner or later. If it was any consolation for everyone involved, it happened on a day that was already expected to end in disaster. In a way, funerals are meant to be like that—the sheer awkwardness after the last shovel of earth sealed the dead, the ominous goodbyes among the bereaved as they return to their own empty homes.

Ann, my sister, had thought of everything. The coffin, in all its environmentalist glory, was the last of her cruel jokes. Pre-ordered one month after she gave birth to the baby and two weeks before she willfully drove her car off a cliff and into a ravine, it was made entirely of wood and devoid of even iron nails. It was her way of saying to me—her only brother—that she was determined to rot under the ground and disappear entirely, now that her revenge was beautifully done.

triptych

1.
I sat on the edge
of the bed, consumed
with the movement of her
fingers tracing an invisible
tatoo on my naked hip,
her nails digging
into my skin to remind me of pain

there was no she, only her
for was I just the boy
the gentle morning couldn't save?

she packed her bags
that day, two little suitcases,
horrible and dignified


2.
I sat on the edge
of the bed, consumed
with the movement of his
slow restlessness
whipping the white bedsheets into cream,
his arms waiting and wanting
me to pin them down

there was no he, only him,
for was I just the boy
the hateful afternoon could not save?

he packed his bags
that day; two things he left:
his keys and the smell of his hair on my pillows


3.
I sat on the edge
of my bed, consumed
with the sound of my patient breathing,
the sound of my neighbor's TV,
reminding me of blue light
and take-out dinners

there was no one, only me,
for was I just the boy
the jealous night adores?

I packed my bags
that night: two full, the other empty
time to collect the stars