on that note:

in london
to my sister who is not my sister

you had undone the ticket.
at the home of the mother who
did not want you, who
could not hold on to your wing
beat heart,
you tore into the way back but
i waited. you had lost the ticket
you said.

they searched through their anger,
our parents, and we went back
before the planes that would not carry you

it tore in two. i won't go back
you told them
until we saw at last--
face sick and set, you shouldered
aside the pleading.
you stayed with her, your mother.
you left


i can't seem to find the right way to end this