The hallway vibrates, resounding from both sounds and prayers.
Linoleum; the vessel of these pulses and flashes.
These floors are not used to these children,
returned to adolescence by their spirits.
As you step over the threshold, this bathroom transforms to a temple.
More likely to lie on the stand than here, between these stalls.
Two brothers stand together,
joined by blood of the same mothers and fathers.
Joined by spirits, coursing through their veins.
Yet only one must walk through life with his shadow.
Faces pass, blend, morph into one
here in this sanctuary.
Do not deny these brothers their moment eternal, their recollection, their brief respite from grief
here in time.
Outside, life continues.
Time ticks ever onward.
Out there, the weight is shouldered.
Seeing their father, brother, husband
in every smile, laugh, word.
Oblivious to him standing behind each, his mantra ever repeating:
You are strong.
I am yours and I am here.
Do not weep, for I would have it no other way.