awesome sister

I can tell her my biggest secrets.
She says, “Cool.”
She doesn’t gasp.
She doesn’t dismiss.
She accepts truths
like catching a baseball out of the sky
with one hand.
Gracefully.

She is taller than me,
but younger than me,
and we’ve been best friends since a decade ago
when they gave us separate bedrooms.

We make mischief and cookies and we talk shit.
We are forever on the same side.

I heard her call me “sibling”
on the phone
to a stranger
in a semi-frantic situation.
“I’m just waiting for my sibling to pick me up, I’m good.”

Damnit, that meant so much.

Mom still calls me “daughter” to other people.

Oh, awesome baby sister,
may you forever run into me
when we’re both on the way to do some chore
and invite me with you for a ride along
so we can forget about time while we just talk and enjoy the closeness.

May your car get towed again
so we can spend a hilarious two hours at the tow yard
Talking shit about the lady that works there,

reward ourselves for the ordeal
with lunch and thrift shopping.

Okay, actually, I take that back about wanting your car to get towed again,
but not how much fun it was.