I wish I could show you, I wish you could see, I wish I was a screen at the East-Towne. Helene, your stare from out in the seats would fill me up with your longings, the pretty things you see when you close your eyes and the bad things too. Because you can’t have light without its opposite. The dreams you have for your own life and the lives of your mother and brother too. Even your father out roaming the void.
Your name still echoes.
Helene. Helene.
Sometimes I say it out loud and no one hears except the fireflies.
You are the truth and I am a lie. I hide my pain and yours is in the world under the bright lights and you are unashamed. Give me a sweater made from your smell and whispers.