The word brother is not his word.
It’s Me vs. Them. Alone too young
he set out to find
a flesh to press into his flesh
went straight for the lover—direct—
tongue for tongue
and eyes for her. But everyone
turns enemy. Crew is utilitarian,
even her single hair on his tongue,
her naked skin, turned wrong.
Still, in his first migration
he glanced behind
for brother eyes—for a godhead
figure he resembled.