I hit my sister for the first time, and my parents were very,
very
disappointed in me.
(They said, “We are very,
very
disappointed in you.”)

I resented this.

Not only had my sister scored a
few good swipes of her own –
scratches from her claws, still red and raised –
but this struggle between us was preordained –
biblical,
if you will.

Cain and Abel, Jacob and Esau, Joseph and his
eleven older brothers – these are stories as old
and numerous
as the stars in the sky, the sand on the seashore.
God pointed to the stars and to the sand and said unto Abraham,
“I will bless you and multiply your descendants
beyond number.”
Seed widely sown, and with it the same story spread
in heaven and on earth –
brother against brother –
the most fundamental of Fundamentalisms.

But –
when I tear at your skin
does my own heart bleed?
If I sacrifice you on the alter of my ambition
will my own name go up in smoke?
Could I share with anyone else a
hatred
as pure as ours?
And,
is there any other way of being?
(Is there?)

Sister against sister –
a country turned against herself –
preordained –
biblical,
if you will.
(Will you?)

Because,
fundamentally,
I hate you.
Fundamentally, I have to hate you.
I have to choose to hate you.
(No.)

I
choose
to
have
to
hate
you

(sister.)