Leaving Again

I tell her
crackling-stream eyes
and twittering frown
I am leaving again.
She believes me
each time I lie
about finally going.
I have turned her
into my younger brother.

I teased him on purpose.
He asked me to play,
plot our new adventure
excited after I agreed,
then frustrate and sigh at me;
I built clusters of mini-chores
between my yes’s and our playing.
I made him wait,
stuffing the in-between
with dozens of ‘just let me’s
and ‘right before’s, tightening
the tension of his trust.

Now, I tell her
drooping brow and
blank slate cheeks
I am leaving again,
toeing the tight-line
of her frail faith in me
to actually leave her.