Poetry Thursday

Poetry Thursday once again. This week, the optional assignment was to post whatever you wanted so, dear readers, (all three of you) you'll be treated to some more of my own homecooked poetry. I haven't got the recipe quite right yet but hopefully, the flavor will come through. Enjoy.


The other sister

I used to imagine there were two of us
in my mother’s womb, fitted into one
another, mirrored halves of the same

shell, a chambered nautilus floating in
the inky dark. Curled twin tadpoles, we
swam in the waves of our mother’s warmth,

joined skin to skin. She, a small dark
replica of my mother, myself in reverse,
the two of us connected down to the nerve,

the membrane, synaptic firings offering
the same shared sense of memory. One
came forth in a rush of blood and terror

and movement, sent out into the world
alone, while the other stayed behind, a
ghost in the womb. My mother says not

to be silly, to stop imagining things, but
I’ve already shouldered the weight of her,
the other sister, the other half of myself.

This is by no means finished and in reality, it most likely sucks, but damnit, I had to put up something.