Horsehead

My brother and I have a weird relationship

What’s it like inside your brain? i asked my

brother. we were in the car filling up the gas 

tank in town. the sunlight came in through the 

window by his head and caught the brown halo 

of his hair. 

Wild horses, he said, and turned away, so i could 

stare at his profile, see the angle of his jaw and 

how it hardened. 

what’s that mean? i asked him, but he only shrugged,

as though there was nothing to explain at all. 

You’re too skinny, he poked my side when 

i came home again, and i growled at him 

as his finger met the plane of my

floating ribs. it’s all i ever think about any more, 

i tried to tell him, lying 

on his bed and looking at the ceiling, while

he sat on the floor, and his head turned to

mine. it’s eating me. 

And i laughed then because that was funny, 

somehow, 

and dangled further over the side 

of his bed, ignoring his puzzled stare, 

so all the blood rushed down to my 

parasite head.