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Writer's pictureglenhaney

Twins

I was born a twin of only one. The

lost one roams my days by night, a

nigh- owl who perches in a tree close

enough to hear but too close to see.


His pillow lies unmolested by restless

hair or tears to share with his anxious

twin. He fills my need to be touched

much as he did when we shared


a room in the womb. I

long to see him, to

be him, to roam

the skies in

disguise

as a

twin.




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