Introduction: The Square

Growing up in Chicago was a privilege

The ties that bind – A birthday poem for my sister

When my opponents were arrayed against me. You stood as My sole proponent. Without you I can’t quantify or fathom the concept of me. Laughing, crying, confiding. Ingredients to the ties that bind. Which runs counter to infinitesimal and can never be loosened or pulled asunder. My sister.   Happy Birthday sis!