‘boy christ’ for my younger brother In my mind's eye I was an only child until I flew home from overseas and witnessed the shimmering urgency of your joints’ liquid to splurge, fire out, and bloom. I noticed your acne, the pus-filled colony kissing your face the way it used to kiss mine. I wish I had prepared a map: here, brother, this ointment will take you to X. This route will take you to your mother's love. This is how to orbit Saturn. Deep down I am such a diva but here, brother - this is what I know of being a man. This is words on paper wrapped under a Christmas tree. This is how to peel an apple in one go, watching its skin fall down as a helix, longing for a twin. See how our dog sees us for equals? See how the beer starts a fire in your stomach's lining, how it opens the gate?