Two Halves - Poem
A poem inspired by the piece of creative fiction I wrote for my twin.
I lay, flat on my stomach staring into the growling teeth of the vent beneath the bottom step. She had followed me to the base of the stairs, resting herself against my back. So few understand how it feels to have someone fit against the curve of your spine like they were intended to be a part of your body until they were peeled away from you, like skin from an orange. It is a kind of knowledge only gained, from sharing a room before you were born.
How to explain the closeness, but to feel it? How to explain the perfect symmetry of palm against palm, each finger finding its resting place? How to explain that each of your atoms matches hers, never totally complete unless you are together? How to explain that you were engineered, in tandem, two pieces of a structure designed to fit together into one, cohesive Whole? Eighteen years we spent like this, cramped in the hidden staircase, pinkies linked under dinner tables, her, filling the empty space at the curve of my spine A complete sister structure, never alone.