Dearest son

of bruises and cigarette burns

how I wish you well.

Dearest friend

of "what ifs" and "why nots"

how I hope you sleep soundly.

I watched

meekly

as you crashed and burned

against the reality

of being alone.

I witnessed

the safety

that glowed from your eyes as I put my arm around you and held you all during that night.

His burns

a flaxen line of purple wholes

from the brunt of his step fathers cigarette

down his belly

bled that night

as we contemplated the happy endings that we wanted.

I loved

the silence

yet feared the violence

of our circumstances.

I remember when I ran away

and hiked up Petrovitsky to the free way

and how

you were the only one who went after me.

I can still see

that girl

with a backpack full of clothes

and poetry

faltering

against the pavement of life

and you

holding her back

from the fast moving cars who would never stop.

His hands

have languidly longed to be free

but

for so long they held me

through so much

and so little.

I'll never forget that you were there

and that for so long you were the only one.

I'll never forget that for so long you were everything that I wanted

and to you likewise.

All of this time has gone by

I hope that you are well.