Half Brother
(It rained, remember?) We climbed
to the roof, took turns dying
our bodies glistened & shook, mist
from our tongues I step into your game
screaming I get five lives!
(but you always win)
Hold your breath, count to ten
cut your fingernails, put them in milk
take your clothes off, run. I crawl
into your lap, your arms wide open rooms
pinch the skin at my elbow
shout chicken! I stumble, my jeans damp
sky at our backs poking night sockets
I am itchy-curious like worms you keep
in a matchbox they crackle & writhe
as you set them alight your eyes full
of candleflame, when you jump
you take my hand & the rooms with you
Rebecca Faulkner (she/her) is London-born children’s rights advocate, climate activist and poet. Her poetry has been published or is forthcoming in The Maine Review, On the Seawall, Into the Void, Writers Rebel and Passengers Journal. She holds a Ph.D. in Cultural Studies from the University of London. Faulkner lives in Brooklyn, New York with her family. @snookygoodman