an alter ego - each time i see him i want to ask him
why he chose to let go of his dream - looked so
good in a skirt and heels: carried self like the most
glorious of women - instead he drafts prisons for a
living, does miniature figurines, and at times paints
today at lunch - i spoke of loss and dreams and
hopes - as always he listened, advised, made me
laugh - we spoke of his wife, his home, his life
and he was sad but spoke of times to come when
we would again revisit the past - me dressing him
in my most glorious of skirts and curling his hair
