Static

Our smiles stretch under the curved glass frame

Fuelled by the sudden gust of wind that flipped our umbrellas inside out.

As we laughed together the rain caught our uncovered faces

In a moment of surprise and joy, shot by a weather reporter

And framed by my parents the following month.

In that photo we stride unflinchingly towards the present,

Hands gripping our umbrellas tightly and eyes blinded by rain.

We stride as equals, in step with one another along the road.

I am sorry that we could not remain equal as we do there,

Propped up on a bookcase by my hanging mirror.

I am sorry that life took away so much from you,

That I could not be there to laugh with you when the rain really began to come down.

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