Standoff

I hold my hands out.
I say, “Brother, this is me.”
But you don’t know
my breath or bones.
I say, “Our veins
match up.”
I say, “Our veins
were rivers
in the map of our
mother’s womb.”
You are not moved.
I say, “Brother, do you
remember the war?
We put our guns away
long ago.”
(I can remember you.
I can remember you.)
Brother, this is
me.

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