Liquid

I - frère terrible

Before I was born, you had already robbed me.

You are my twin but not my mirror:

My hair is too bright; everything is too bright.

I’m not the bad guy any more 

than you.

We had blood on our hands

before even the air touched our fingers.

Our destiny will be wrought with rot and ruin. 

And I know you gave our destiny to him. You chose him.

I chose you. I chose me.

II - of my father, father of mine

Imperfect son of a perfect soldier.

Part of me knows there’s nothing perfect in war.

Another part of me sees the comfort in my lie.

You should be in the brush, still.

A boy needs his father, even if

he appears as no different than the paspalum.

But I can see through the foliage. 

I can. I could.

It should have been me. It should 

have been me. It should have been me.