We’ve lived in

two different houses

both of which we were alone

And no one

would even know

someone else

was with us

in there

until they

heard our mama’s angry

screams or smelled

our clothes

stained with cigarette

ashes

We were two

different roses on

the same bush

surrounded by

Thorns

And as you

were the sun

I was

the moon

chasing each

other across that

single silver star

which lay

on the movie

theater floor

The dark ground 

our universe

the popping popcorn

like the applauding of other planets

The tearing of tickets

like the lighting of a match

a distant sun bursting.

Remember?

We’ve inched up the same door frame

and fallen asleep in the same crib.

We’ve stepped barefoot together

feet skimming

against cold, slippery stones

against gravel streets that steam.

We’ve ruined our performance

two impish toddlers on a stage

giggling mischievously

skipping freely

tumbling without grace.

Yes, I steal the clothes

and you hog the bathroom

But we’ve pinched cotton candy off the same cone

and anyone can see we care.

Because we still laugh

when we come across that silver star

Because you’re my sun

and I’m your moon

and forever

we’ll revolve

around each other

Because you’re the corner of my lip,

tugging upwards to the blush of my cheek

tugging downwards to the teardrop hanging off my chin

Because you’re

the well in my

eyes filling with

the soft rain of mist

or the damaging

ice cubes of hail

Because you’re

my fingertips

guiding me forwards

to comforting warmth

guiding me backwards

from searing fire.

Because you’re my sister.

The only rose

on that thorn-filled bush

Wilting,

Growing,

And blooming beside me.