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I entered life an accidental tourist.
My mother’s body served an eviction notice,
But I ignored it and burrowed deeper
Into placental warmth.
My twin, however, weaker,
Entered the world a clotted, bloody,
Gelatinous mess on the white tile
Of a bathroom floor.
The doctor told the man,
Who wasn’t really my father
But thought himself to be,
There was still a heartbeat,
Still a baby left.
I felt the absence of my twin,
the lack of another’s heart
beating a rhythm to match my own,
racing toward emergence, light, life, breath.
A ghost-like memory I carried with me
Always– Even when I, who survived
By claiming squatter’s right
To my mother’s uterus
As it tried to evict me
And who had never been told
Of my twin’s existence, would
Turn in childhood play and talk
To my twin sister.
My mother asking to whom I talked
And I answering—My…
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Absolutely brilliantly written. I read it four times. Took my breath away.
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Thank you, my friend
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emotional, enthralling, and powerful Annette
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Thank you
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My pleasure Annette
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