Carole Coates

Twin

One child has a twin
locked in her body.
While she grows, it remains
unformed, embedded -
a feather or two of bone
seeded in the flesh,
a wisp of hair, a shadow
of vertebrae, curving nowhere,
even a tooth in the uterus -
her rag and bone sister
who calls out in dreams.

My own twin
is less diffused –
a clenched fist of a ghost
made flesh in my flesh
in a cold indwelling
lasting decades. And noisy.
Even now, among leached bones,
loosening flesh, she keeps on.
( I know her eyes are hard
and blue and round as millstones. )
She keeps on. “Starve,” she says,
“Starve. You fool.”

Carole Coates

published in Looking Good, Shoestring Press, 2009.

© 2009 Carole Coates

The poems on these pages are the intellectual property of the author and may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

Home

Last updated 20 June 2016