Once in the heat of an argument
We took it to The Decider
The two of us both
Feeling the roiling flashes of betrayal and resentment no doubt
The details are, of course,
no longer with me
But in the memory of my imagination
When I was already being punished for the second time
As it had been deigned I was the party
At fault
With tears of indignation seared my face
Seeing this, you flew at mom’s ear in a blinding flash
Determined not to let her soften
For our mother was generally
not a very principled disciplinarian
It took more than over the top of three decades
For me to just
one day realize
You had probably not angrily betrayed
My darkest secrets
In your toothy, clipped whispers
Instead you probably said something concerning only yourself
That you did not wish to grant me the privilege of overhearing then
That I always understood that moment to be one in which you twisted the knife
Was partly because we were young children
Partly because the moment had been so embroiled in rage
And partly, simply, human
To not have realized your own sister
Had secrets of her own
And I think perhaps I never succeeded
in holding that in my mind
Sufficiently
in a way that gave you space
to simply be with me
I regret always believing we had ample time
though that, too,
surely has to do
with being young and human