A Brother's Grip

[busker]

A Brother's Grip

You’re like an old dog
wagging its tail at my door,
begging to come in,

but my drunken feet struggle
in the too early morning,
so I shuffle back ....I didn't quite catch this one. I assume it's extending the old dog metaphor and getting up to opening the door for it, but the movie unspooling on the ceiling in the end confuses me as to where the metaphor ends.

undercover- nearly hear
your bottleneck slide in 
a solo, under my pillow-  ... I had to google this one. A guitar solo, if I got it right. The first thee strophes are a bit disjointed. Maybe I'm missing the point.

still feel the familiar grip 
of your hand; the stinging whip ... 'familiar grip of your hand' doesn't quite cut it for me. It's borderline cliche. And 'stinging whip' sounds superfluous
of your tongue. 

Watching your silent movie
unspooling on the ceiling, ...a great couple of lines - this is the whole poem for me.
it’s hard to picture you gone. .... ending falls a bit flat

Brotherly Love

You’re like an old dog
wagging its tail at my door,
begging to come in,

but drunken feet struggle
in the too early morning,
so I shuffle back undercover.

I thought I could hear you
playing guitar, sliding in
under my mind-

my ears become dumb bells,
the weight of you doubled
inside my head.

Your shadow leans in too close
to my pillow, catching my breath,
asking if you can borrow it.

I can almost feel the strong grip
of your hand; the stinging
whip of your tongue.

Watching your silent movie
unspooling on the ceiling,
it’s hard to picture you gone.

p.s.- With a nod to a poet named mandolyn. 

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Hi Mark - a fine piece. The revised version you posted reads a lot better, tighter than the original
But I can see why you chose to workshop it. There's a lot that you're trying to say, but the word choices could be improved.
Good luck on the journey.