if I should say
there is a wolf at the table
with half my DNA
and people keep inviting it back
if I could do more than
survive in this territory

where they pass bone china plates,
not knowing how I breathe,
hoping the mottled gray beast won’t sense
this weakness

and if I follow the leader / fall limp / fake death
would it unsink curved teeth
from scabs I can’t stop
picking,
if I could stir my silenced years into strength
serve it raw, bloodied at dinner time
if I could call it what it is / speak into existence
would you believe me if I
named it how he was born unto me:
brother

Image: By Joseph Nicéphore Niépce, Public Domain.