Keith

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My brother deflects a hug
With the agility of sprinkled water
Hopping through the surface 
Of heated oil in a pan.

My brother flinches over endearments
Like a bacon wrinkling, shriveling.
Our sweet words
Reduced into mere affectations.

But he feeds us with umami
Until our guts herniate 
Through the crevices
Of our hungry hearts.

His love language is as discreet
As the layers of subtle flavors
Rising from his buttered skillet--
Pickle relish.

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