TWIN

Danica Lorer

There was only ever one

suffering from vanishing twin syndrome.

The dum, dum, dum

an extra heartbeat remembered, one heatbeat

a heartbleat

weakly throbbing in the womb

that only had space

for one.

Mother named him

held him

kissed him

once on each cheek

once on the nose

never suspected

more than one

perfect son.

The dee, dee, dee

a first child song

mimicking the little black-capped chirpers.

Flitting alone

only wanting to share

sunsets and musings

scraped elbows

and stories of the sea.

He asked his mother

where his brother was

the one like himself

begged her for another.

“There will only ever be one.”

She sighed

hands folded

over an empty belly.

Hide-and-seek

was only ever hide

no one to seek

when he found the place

dark and musty

under the porch

where the caterpillar spun

around and around.

No one to find

no matter

how hard he looked.

Alone, lonely

wishing for the (br)other

he remembered

from the time before

his time walking

breathing outside air

tasting wild strawberries.

He left his mother

in a flooding puddle of her own sea-salt tears

an ocean amniotic.

Kissed her twice on each cheek

packed double what he needed.

He could set the extra clothing on the ground

use it as a mirror.

In a stranger land

he found his own way.

He spoke in riddle rhymes

one voice while standing on his two flat feet

one voice rose while he balanced on his head.

It was a trick of the golden light

bouncing between the trees

casting shadows

over the water.

He believed

everyone believed

there were two.

Dee-dum, dee-dum, dee-Dum.

A whisper

to his inner ear.

The walking, breathing one was losing

the memory of his own words

and poetry.

Tried to hum, to recite

to remember the lyrics

his mother mouthed at his cribside.

The one absorbed by

early loss

once unviable was gaining

a power

to manipulate the eyes

see clearer

lift a leg

without yet owning a body.

Facial features melted away

caught something alien beneath

a way of holding the corners of the mouth

a tic

a twirl

dancing so fast

one could never tell

if it was one, or two

or four, or sixteen.

Who would lead?

Who would follow?

Who was growing strong?

When there was no one else in the forest

would anyone hear the single twin fall?

Clapping one hand?

Dee, dee, dee

he felt his own

feet slipping

out from under

held on to walls to hold his ground.

His chest cavity

too full

to catch his breath

he held it

turning blue.

His own voice

raised

a pitch

pitched forward

until he felt

almost

consumed

by something

he no longer

longed to see

or hear.

Something scratching in his

throat.

His ears

a drumskin

vibrating

too loud.

He tried to silence

the growl

the murmur

the buzz of something budding

stretching, clawing

underneath the muscles.

He tried to give up looking

for the other

dropped the desire

to be doubled.

Changed his signature.

Tweedle Dee.

He approached

an expert,

a magician of the mind

who measured success in inches

a mad man

whose obsession

lied and truthed

on the size of a brain case.

The physician’s

sleight of hand

shone a light down his throat

stuck a tube in his ear

yelled

to see, to hear

if anyone lurked

inside.

Medication to soothe

the cake to grow bigger

the drops to grow small.

The illusion was easier with smoke

and a broken mirror

shards like butter knives

left even more reflections

more faces

more facets.

Knives to cut into skin

surgery to separate.

One trying to cut a part, apart, a part

to carve out a place to fit the other.

He’d spent his life

searching for the other face

seeing sneers and grins

eyes, and jawlines

in tree bark, clouds,

and the patterns on the floor.

He pulled at his ears

tried to shake

the other out

couldn’t run, or roll, or wobble

away.

He walked, ran, toward

the glow

of a sterile room

bright lights

the voice

growing louder.

Knives excised,

pulled tissues apart

cells rearranged

electric shock therapy

division

and multiplication

adding and subtracting

a miracle of life

through nuclear transfer.

The clone grew

swallowed up all the memories

as the first flesh home

became a shell.

The second body

matured at an alarming rate

the gel medium allowed the space.

There was no softness

planted by a mother’s embrace

no scars formed by the sticks and stones

of playground bullies.

This one didn’t learn the rules

about putting fingers into

light sockets

about sticking everything into its mouth

about pushing knives

into the bellies of others.

It woke speaking full sentences

as the rasp of dee, dee, dee

escaped the first one’s mouth

lying under a white sheet

eyes open

not seeing

the brother whose face

he had searched for every day.

The second

within minutes

spoke cruel verse

peaking in a heated stanza

a curse

to the one

who had grown beyond an embryo

so long ago.

The earlier frame

soft and round

easily molded

fading.

The replica used its

mass to lift and run

building blocks

for abs, thighs

and biceps.

The dum, dum, dum

rose to a drum, drum, drum

footfalls not mere steps

but leaps

and no one thought there

was more than one

standing in front of them.

Hands

had split

the sequel from the innocent one

whose only fight had been with sorrow

missing part of himself.

The copy took more

than its fair share

didn’t wish

for a (br)other.

All was quiet

as they readied

to read the last blink

to close the seeking eyes

to pull the covering up

and over.

Dee, dee, dee

rattled breath

in, in, in

and

out, in one long puff.

There was only ever one

at a time

thriving

an independent beast.

The DUM, DUM, DUM

a heartbeat, a drumbeat, a heartbreak

forged without the warmth of a womb.

The world had only space

for one.