I don’t love you;
Yet, I know the roadmap of your face
Your swells and falls
As well as I know my own;
We’re siblings asleep on the car ride home.
We’ve both known the unpredicted sting of rejection
And tasted peppermint
And heard our voices on tape and thought,
“That sounds nothing like me!”
We’ve had bad haircuts.
We’ve puked before, been yelled at.
I don’t see the point in even saying
That you should be happier than I am
Or I you
When if you lift our shirts, you’ll see
Our organs are tangled, intertwined -
Lungs, livers, intestines, pulsating and churning in unison -
And ours souls,
Just shards,
The share given to us,
Luminescent through the cat’s-cradle of blood and disesteem.
On Judgment Day,
Our skins will fall to the floor like bathrobes,
And exposed will be our hearts contracting.
Identical.