like an angry storm; we raise our windows
and let the sun weep through the cracks.
Despair seizes my brothers by the throat
and shakes the air out of their lungs, while
you, faceless, touch my cheek—odd thunder.
Your headstone wakes
astride a hollow grave,
where I dig on hands and knees until
we are three years old again. The rubble
breaks my skin with gracious teeth.
I learn to love you.
Your body slips into its place,
your shadow burning,
unexpected laughter like a song.