Twins

the way we grew from the shadows together, you
and I were nothing but two scared little kids caught in a shadowed wisp of lies.
nothing but the texture of your eyes when they lost their color over dusk
nothing but the curl of sand underneath my sweat in the glint of summer's last breath.
they told us to cut off our wings-- there were little stubs smack
in the middle of their shoulder blades where they too had forgotten what
it was like to breathe. there is only sadness,
mom said. she scrubbed the tables all day like she could scrub away the world
because dad was but a decomposed corpse in the cemetery down the street.
the word m-o-m chipped my teeth and you and I were nothing but two dots
of starlight dying in a puddle of water, nothing but the color of tears.
the way you swore you remembered how we were
born and how you were sorry because you were healthy and i went to the ICU
and maybe i remember what it was like to be curled up in a safe place maybe
we were holding hands but there are no roads
leading out of this town and your wings aren't big enough to carry us both anyways.