Makayla
Eye to eye to eye—
all this blood of my blood,
flesh of my flesh—
hand to hand to hand.
A thousand arms embracing.
Kindnesses most secret sister
has rubbed us raw and flayed.
Eye to eye to eye.
The incising moment,
the killing blow.
Now we are neither
angered whales, raking,
nor beaten dogs at play.
Fanged apes are biting, knowing.
People hurt the ones they love.
So long this silence,
favored kindred.
Our hands, still grasping, burn to touch.
I do not miss you quite as much
as I assumed I would.
When our mothers and our fathers die
and all that’s left is you and I—
battle-brothers,
boars freed from the sty
I will hold your hand again.
You were half my soul and half my skin.
Tear away.
Love of life has spread you thin.
And for that, I must forgive you.
My love,
my muse,
my twin.
Our triumphs choke and drown
in disillusion, so hard won.
Few among us cheer, when all the shoutings done.
Love is Enough
Love is enough,
and it’s filling.
It settles warm in the pit of your stomach.
Love is enough.
(Before she goes
to work, she shows me
how to use
the microwave)
You look thinner,
my best friend tells me.
Well, I am growing taller every day.
Love rests low
in the pit of my stomach,
gnawing.
Love is enough.
(5 minutes for ramen
5 for chicken nuggets,
2 for tea.
She’s in her room.
I stare at the TV, gnawing)
Love is enough
and I never hunger, wondering
Will she love me today?
I can feel it in my body,
in my bones, my teeth.
It stirs low in the pit of my belly,
and my heart burns.
Love is enough.
(My uncle has me whisk milk and eggs
and my father adjusts my fingers around the handle of a knife.
My aunt passes dishes to wash
and I make my sister rice in the early evening.)