that Sunday afternoon in Madison
when we went to brunch, then found our seats
in the theater where the French Revolution
is waging again and a man falls in love
and the woman dies and her daughter is horribly
enslaved, and my brother, a bear of a man,
the heavyweight champion wrestler who
routinely pinned behemoths to their backs
and threw keggers to “make me clean
the floors,” my brother beside me
cried enough tears for the whole globe,
a lightning rod for sorrow, as if his heart
were big enough to take on the burdens
of the whole world, how I loved him then,
his face radiant and glistening,
both of us weeping near to heaving
and holding each other’s hands, smiling
at each other in the dim light, both of us
seeing ourselves as the other as the players
built a barricade and all our walls fell down.
Oh I love this. I’m crying. Forwarding to my brother.
From: A Hundred Falling Veils Reply-To: A Hundred Falling Veils Date: Friday, September 29, 2017 at 6:33 AM To: Subject: [New post] I Always Love Him, But There Was
Rosemerry posted: ” that Sunday afternoon in Madison, when we went to brunch, then found our seats in the theater where the French Revolution is waging again and a man falls in love and the woman dies and her daughter is horribly enslaved, and my”
Oh sweet Erika,
We are quite lucky to have such fine fellers for brothers ⦠say hi to yours for me,
Xoxo
r
Watch my TEDx talk The Art of Changing Metaphors: TEDX Rosemerry Trommer
Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
970-729-1838
wordwoman.com
From: “comment-reply@wordpress.com” Reply-To: Date: Friday, September 29, 2017 at 6:53 AM To: Rosemerry Trommer Subject: [A Hundred Falling Veils] Comment: “I Always Love Him, But There Was”
Brothers are the best things that happened to us. I have one myself, and I wonder what I’ll do without him.
Reading this i really wish i had a brother.