Reminiscing an instant the first
time I laid eyes on you I swayed
your fragile body a teddy left to right
and back reprimanded by the nun,
I was six you were just born.
If birth’s a trauma yours was drama
strangled by a covetous umbilical cord
unwilling to let you go, saved
by a squad of doctors giving you life
forever changing mine.
Ebullient tornado in a shaky home
running in corridors skateboards and bikes
earned you a sobriquet still lingering on,
Mikee Bikee for evermore.
Hanging from branches flowers of white
a monkey stealing cherries my partner in crime,
furtively trudging up the hill to pluck
provisions of sweets at the grocery store,
on our father’s slate monthly bills
hard to ignore, a puzzle as we hid booties
behind closed windows mischievous grins
behind vestal smiles, gulping evidence
whilst creating a unique bond, complicity
essentially rooted on Grisbi cocoa biscuits
to secrecy self-sworn. Morning early birds
looting warm bread from Dominican mothers
we grew together through thick and thin
at least for a moment, enticing you to do
your homework on promises
of La Pace chocolate cake rewards,
using reverse psychology to get you
to eat your veggies wash your teeth,
summers spent on our own watching movies
on the wall, giving parties greeting friends
as long as they brought food supplies
we had it all, and through it all
we shared happiness and favourite songs
while you would comfort me with hugs
in sporadic times of gloom.
To think we still have a long way to go
hope you stick around and haven’t told
anyone I was the first
to get you drunk. Hush-hush.
[Featured photo: My brother and I, 2007]