As was proper, the younger started first.
The secret smiles, loud enough so that all would talk and all would see the attention to decorum. The smiles, the silence, the talk and talk and talk, and at last the binding nod no one ever saw but for the shadow (heads bowed, legs folded, hands on lap).
As was proper, the courtship followed.
Appropriately one-sided.
Seek eyes, seek hands, secret smiles still for all to see. Sit outside the bedroom door when the sky is dark, waiting for me to stop pretending I don't know. Mount the mat, mount the mat, and mount the mat again. Fall each time, but marvel at closeness. The heat in the air, affirming I too am human. Wrap your blisters and bruises with the others, waiting for me to hold the linen and the hands, knowing the skin will be warm. Celebration of naivety. Dreaming of the open door, unable to empty the mind in meditation, swallowing to bury the though that mine is completely blank. But at least I sit beside you.
As was proper, the day came when we became two men in name, shed the confines of boyhood.
And many were jealous of you and a few were jealous of me. The match was made, they cut their tongues, but could not hide the betrayed bite behind more reckless blows. In your honor, I brought each to his knees as often as they dared. You unbound my hands. I bandaged yours. And, you found one night, I left the door open now.
And darkness was not a time for stoicism.
I held your smiles, secret at last for only me, and you learned the distinction between strength and control from my fingers. A different type of kata. I wished you were my first, but only in spare seconds between play and rest when it did not occur to me how such circumstances would undermine propriety. I was so warm, I could tell, because you were always so cold against me. Only skin.
As was proper, I left before sunrise on the day he hit the ground.
It was not worth it, as I had always guessed, to see more than the shadow.
When we met again, I knew there would be no smile, and I was right. There had been none for some time. No words for you. The days were passed when I could hold your hand. Annihilation of naivety.
As was proper, when you stepped into that stance I did not deny you.
Again, I wished there could be something for you in being my first, but too many spots are filled before you; I cannot name them, nor even give them number. Still, it could not have been better if I'd taken your head. Many would not understand how important it was to deliver you, not knowing that, in this way, I have always been until the very last the paragon of proper example I was meant to be for you alone.
Look around you, see how much more beautiful that world is, and sit by the door in wait.
You have forever, as is proper, since I will never come.
Right now, I know I am still warm and you have never been colder.
Close your eyes.
Let you fall.
You were perfectly half the man I am.