moonlight

in my dream. I hold hands with my brother.

we are both boys: he looks at

me through his thick lashes. a squint.

three years of time travel, between him and me.

we are blue boys. he looks like

my future, and I am his past.

three years. time holds us together

in summer and it’s always summer in my dream.

my future and his past are nothing but

a smudge. his free from worry glint

of summer. always summer when I dream of him.

we laugh. we blow up cowpat in dad’s village. a punch:

a smudge is his free from worry glint

as if graphite glides past his cheeks.

look! how our laughter blooms, in dad’s punch.

I stand by him, hold on to his soft hand.

graphite draws wind blowing past our cheeks.

I look at him—through our thick lashes—

our shoulders barely touch, tiny hand in tiny hand.

and there it is, where my brother’s stubborn heart beats.

I look through him, behind his thick curtains of lashes.

we are both boys for once: looking ahead.

his stubborn heart laughs with mine. so loud. I wake up.

and there! my brother is the moon: watching over me.