She was his ward but
his attention was on a chess game
As she peppered the boy's back
with tiny fists,
he ignored her
focusing on being a little man
They slammed pieces roughly,
traded insults and talked of honor
He was only twelve or so but
laughed at the jokes that
should have gone over his head
The scene was the past
and I was the boy
and it was my younger sister
that fussed
that pushed and prodded me,
wanting me to return the favor
Our ages cursed us.
In the beginning, I tried to lose her
and couldn't---she made me tired
She resented my desire for privacy
and her instant maturity
Years later, it became apparent
that she no longer needed me
I resented her privacy and her maturity
and how she acquired them so early
I returned to watch a brother
turn his back on a girl
starved for attention
I silently begged him to turn back
before it was too late
I soon lost my appetite.
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