Inside.
Now the brother's leg braces are so tiny and intricate.
They are like miniature chainsaws, wheelchair, a sewing
machine--
[IMITATES SEWING MACHINE]
--as if the mother is stitching together each of our rooms--
the better to shut us up.
Rain dots, green sofa with nubs, always forbidden.
Inside the house, inside the brain--
looking out at the lawn, the bicycle, the squirrel.
Behind the eye, in its husk, away from others, sharp masks.
We become teachers.