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Poem

Dear sissy,
Do you remember that time when we had that tire rope swing in our grandparents backyard? 
Where every time we got on it, or in it, we had traces of black dust covering our hands and knees 
Like every time we played we were marked by the residue of innocence
Our grandmother getting mad that we were so filthy 
But either way we still swung free as the breeze. 
Especially you
See I always wanted to go slow 
Cause you always wanted to go fast 
And see you always wanted me to push you
And I always did
But now see 
Things have changed
re-arranged themselves
Like when you say you’re lonely and afraid
But I had always been the one was afraid
To go fast 
Because I never liked to play
That rough
And now its hard 
Because we’re passed the age
Where we can play dirty 
And all I want 
Is for that stain to be smeared 
Over my body
I want to be baptized in brake pad dust 
So I can tell you that I love you 
And that i'm still here if you need that extra push

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