Beginning of Cannibalism

Mouths full of words—
the three of us, carbon copies of the other
growing lighter, the younger

an outline of the elder.

Our father would serve tongue
wrapped in bacon
salted ,a bit of grease.

It was the knowledge of eating
a part of the body we possessed,

our tongue
against the nubs
of the familiar--

No tribe, no order.

Each of us trapped
devouring the other.