self

anna. palindrome, reflection of two souls
and two sets of brown eyes staring into the bathroom mirror
as my sister brushes my charcoal hair into a ponytail.
a smile that widens when I watch the piano fingers
dance across keys, unlocking my world, holding my hand
through rocky paths along redwood forests, past
the salty spray against my cheeks as we
sink into the black sands of Hawaii beaches. at home,
clouds of flour blend with the sweet drops trickling
from forehead to nose to neck. the oven opens
and sickly chocolate burns into my bedroom.

yang. and yin. pieces of a balanced puzzle: bouncing,
leaping through life among forever friendships and
unshaken bonds and
ink-stained binder paper, drawing the curls and lines
between a rhythmic language.
I wander into uncharted lands where fiery ash rains
and plagues spread like oil through smokescreens and
empathy pulses through charger wires, while the neighbor’s boy
knows birthdays as a masked drive-through with police sirens.

two souls that walk the line together—

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