Twin
by Cal Wenby
The inwardness of two of us. That
Much we know.
I never met you, anyway
Reversing your eyes, melting
Out of focus the frame. Years
Spent humming away.
Trees reflected again in simple water.
Shadows within shadows, overturning.
There are reports
Twin cities migrate to the Riviera.
Being is just seeing it then all along
As order.
My brother.
Contemplations, centering,
Revert to unborn marginalia.
(Now the winds regale us.)
There was you and you pricked
Out in infinite green, so it felt, or.
Fire by the lake, animals pelting
Into second skin. I loved you.
That day the sky rained. It rained
& spoke of what exactly?
Wheels about.
Our child’s eyes were they said
Snow. Mirrory ligaments insisted.
Otherwise we redoubled our efforts
Never met.