today my brother turned 20

Dear Catwoman,

I just found a poem I wrote about you, dated 12/27/10.

Apples

I know a woman powered by breath
who lives off words and whiskey and
apples she collects like men.
coon skulls and plastic feet map out points on a grid with no mathematical function
except a dance with a mustache in a sweater vest

sometimes my head is spinning
but I come home to deer in my front yard who watch me
climb from my car and up the porch steps without darting away
and I know she is watching me

 I miss you.

Love,
Carrie