The Gate.
I had no idea that the gates I would step through
to finally enter this world would
be the shape my brother's body made.
He was a little taller than me, a young man but grown himself
by then, done at 28.
Having folded every sheet, rinsed every glass
he would ever rinse under the cold and running water.
This is what you have been waiting for,
he used to say to me.
And I'd say, what?
And he'd say this, holding up my cheese and mustard sandwich.
And I'd say, what?
And he would say this, sort of looking around.