a poem about Twins

a poem about Twins

We know what happened to you
scientifically:
When you were a couple of days,
when you were as close as you never will be again,
you were one.

Then fate struck a slicing strike; you became two.
For 9 months you and you shared the warmth of mother, and, probably,
already becoming you and you in that time. Distinct and separate.
Hearts not synced with mother's or each other's.
Both aware, perhaps, of each other: sharing, maybe
a uterine embrace.

Then, in the years after birth, you and you would play different games, speak different words.
You and You would feel different amounts of pain and shame and regret.
You and You would love in your on ways, feeling separate rays of the sun, seeing the maples don fall-fire leaves on distinct trees.

Who knows what the twin feels? Maybe what is hot to you is cold to you, an maybe blue is some hue you see in a different view.

But, only you and you can be more sure you know all the many-fold differences between the two. The world may gloss over in its crude march, for the details are lost in the day.
At the end of it, at least, you will know you.