I know for every goodbye you wished it was a hello. I too do. I meet you again too just when it is goodbye.
You were six then with just a broken tooth. I then had my five year old toothless smile yet I was tougher than you at goodbyes.
So I blink tears away and smell the rust of railways rust and steel, I count the planks of the winding steel, count the wagons of passing trains. Every count helping me blink away tears more.But you are not easy on complex styles of grief, so you turn away and i too pretend it is the drizzle of rain. Tears, nay boys don't cry. I look away because I know goodbye is hard, and harder for you to let me notice your tears. Yeah,you are a boy and boys don't cry. I never use my license as a girl to weep often, so this being another goodbye I too wish it a hello again. Having finished counting wagons, I count uncountable raindrops and you still look for the drizzle of the rain to save your boyhood. I hear my train and I kneel down on the rain washed platform and you plant your annual summer vacation kiss, unmindful of the rest watching us. I hear your heart twist beside mine. We refuse to look at each other and I hold my dad's hand to help clamber the train. I turn back to see you peep from behind your dad's huge frame. I notice your broken boyhood and you quickly turn away. And as the carriages rumble away, I wish it had been a hello too.
