Self-Portrait As Brother’s Mouth

So I am
both me & man           under stubble   swollen
in volume instead of rusted want. To have
never known hunger or lack
the dusk: these streets split open: safety: everything
within a swallow’s reach.

I am a cavern coaxed shut most days.
How like me, my mother
smiles. The way our lips lift to reflect the other’s.


The only time I open wide:
in a begging as she (whom I smile like) says,
I don’t even know how to love you anymore.  & I say, You have to.
You have to keep trying.

This is my sister.