Her Face

Childhood soulmate
once blonde
beautiful.
Her face,
bloated, grotesque
ravaged by time,
disease, medicine.
Vague, blue eyes,
straight, white teeth
chopped chin like mine.
Youth, brilliance
gone.
Delicate hands
that once skimmed
her piano’s keys.
Muttered words to
Voices that only she hears.
Then
a laugh
a ceramic bell
light, gay
And I know
my sister is in there,
somewhere.