Ode to my brother

We played
wearing
nothing
but
grace of the earth
Unblemished
by time
the contours
of our bodies agreed
that we were blind
to mazes
and
nuances
of skin and seduction
The pale evening
floated
on our tea of red
the sun was a wedge of lemon
designing to sting
the dusk uttered its curses
The tea stained
kettle of steel
wept
with its black eyes

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