Beginning of Cannibalism

We were quiet with our mouths full of words—
the three of us, carbon copies of the other
growing lighter, the younger

a pale outline of the elder.

Our father would serve tongue
wrapped in bacon or plain
salted with a bit of grease.

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

The nubs of our tongue
rubbing against the nubs
of the familiar--

Beginning of cannibalism.
No tribe, no order.

Each of us trapped
no matter how similar,

we could be devoured by the other.