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.