Past the confetti and congratulations,
the years and words fall over themselves
now you are gone.
All the things said and not said.
I see your happiness resides elsewhere,
unlike how I am—my fear remains unbetrayed.
How alike and unalike we are.
(I hope you forgive me).
I bite my tongue for fear my father will come out,
in force… sometimes… often.
My guard is that I must not shatter your moment,
not just once, no matter how much I long to be.
Something I leaned as a younger version of myself,
knowing to let others speak.
You stood poised on a limb that I held
at the edge of the world ready for flight,
as I stood my firm ground, amazed.
My heart beating in its cage, my hands clenched tight
ready to let go as your life took on its shape.
Alas, ready to let go of immortality.
Stephen Cipot
Garden City Park