my brother is crouched at the edge
looking down.
he has gathered a circle of cloudy
friends around him
and they are watching the world.
i can feel them there, i always could.
i used to try to explain to him
the afterlife,
and he would laugh. he is laughing now,
pointing toward me. “she was my sister,”
i feel him say,
“even when she was right, she was wrong.”
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