Rossa22

Connected by the heart and clasped with a hand

 

A whole lifetime and more spent in constant company, a single monochrome 

 

In dazzling colors blended by genes, painted with love.

 

Questioning identity in sadness

 

Trapped in a mirror of dazzling iridescence,

 

A reflection of me that is her and a her that is me,

 

Her hand scratches her script while I play a tune on trombone of constant

 

Inquiring, inquest, inquisition of

 

Irresolute identity

 

Whispering questions of “I am…?”

 

Multiples

 

That is all

 

The Twins

 

The Girls

 

Them

 

One. 

 

A constant struggle of definition and individuality.

 

But I am me, she is her

 

We are separate and the same

 

My passion like ivy, 

 

Winding

 

Intertwining 

 

Fastening

 

My temperament to wear rose-colored glasses to the darkest-cloaked of villains,

 

Or my stage presence as a wooden puppet 

 

Toppling

 

Wobbling

 

Stumbling

 

Struggling

 

About

 

Is me. 

 

It is her. 

 

We are one and this is me. 

 

A twin. 

 

Separate

 

Equal

 

Monozygotic. 

 

Transcendent.