There's no friend quite like an older sister. Often when I rummage through our lives, Memories like orange-colored lanterns Yield your face, gold against the darkness. So many times you were what I would be, Initiating dreams that now are me, Showing me my youth in all its starkness, Treating with soft charm my fiercest phantoms. Each time I think of you, my smile revives, Recalling when I was your little blister.