I. The first time I met him, he told me he was dying.
Quirked his mouth and said it, just like the sky is blue or look its raining.
I think I laughed a little, maybe, uncertain giggles choked in my throat because he was lying he was, wasnt he?
II. On his 15th birthday, he blindfolded me and sat me in the passenger seat of his car, drove and drove, then let me out and led me barefoot across the softest grass Id ever felt, like it was me who got a present.
He let go of my hand wish he never did and then said take it off.
Blink away the dark and he was lying on the ground, eyes closed, grass in his toes and his softsoft hair, perfectly aligned with the headstones making paths through the graveyard.
This is mine, you know. and I didnt.
Shay Keely loving-nothing did-nothing. and he wasnt.
Leaves behind nothing, no one
What about me?
III. Its going to rain he would say, every every day when we walked home from school.
And I would look at the sky blue, cloudless, always and I wouldnt understand.
On my funeral, you know smile, kick a pebble, hands in pockets Rain.
I would have liked to have told him he couldnt possibly know that, no one could predict the weather in seventy years, but.
I was never that articulate, so
No, the weathermans calling for sun next Tuesday.
IV. I could never have described Shay to a blind man.
In the way that you can describe clouds as the feel of feathers on your skin, or an earthworm as a spaghetti noodle and the smell of rain, I could never have described him.
He was all the things you had to see to believe in angel-soft hair like a Kansas wheat-field in the breeze, eyelashes whispering like the susurrus of a silent mockingbirds soaring wings. And eyes like that, like liquid onyx, like blackbirds perched in dying trees no blind man could ever have imagined the way they shone.
So I guess it was a good thing, then, that I never met a blind man.
V. I didnt cry, at his funeral
but I took off his shoes.














Comments
I don't usually read prose...I don't know why...but if I can find such quality as this, I wouldn't hesitate to browse it for hours.
This, to me, should be in one of the top prose writings of all time...It is just wow...
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Love like you've never been hurt...
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