Unbeknownst

Balance

18 Balance Whatever I prepare, my brother will not eat. Any letter I write to him, my brother will not read. I can say now that we’ve been like gods, our powers wasted. Whatever he tells me collapses in my trust. Whatever he speaks of is harder to love. No one remembers the first injustice. Gone are its properties as food. And yet, I have brightened inside, having seen sign of his happiness. How lucky he looked then! How surprised that such a thing could befall him. “Sign of,” I say, since I wasn’t one to know its source. Sometimes I thought that I’d rather not know, but that was the real me thinking. ...