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Trestle

Watched her sleep this morning. Labored gasps like a dropped guppy on plush carpet.


Watched her sleep this morning.

Labored gasps like a dropped guppy on plush carpet.

“Please don’t wake up this time,” I thought and what kind of person lets their mind go there?

I’m not done with her but am so weary of grief and dread that I just want her to let go now.

When we were twelve or thirteen we snuck out to go swimming beneath the trestle where Rusty and Dennis drowned the previous year. We would swing out over the river on a crusty old rope, gulp a moldy breath, and hope to land in something wet.

I was frightened the first time.

She sat on the far riverbank and hollered, “Just close your eyes and let go, princess!”

She would never give up on me.

Rattles and coughs and tissues and ice chips happened since then.

Just close your eyes and let go, Princess.

I was never strong like what she did.