• Vol. 08
  • Chapter 08

Like Two Owls

Congrats, sis, and tillykke to Us.
We were that one fertilised egg
that split into a thousand run-on
melodies. Scattered, and sea foam
soft. We became Us, you and me.

We became a little night music.
Fluid. Transient and oblivious.
Waking and sleeping. Us. Always.
Always sunshine in those trails
pulling at us. We are magnetic.

Congrats, sis, on living longer
than two owls. Or a cat. A trout.
We survived ruffles, stitches,
all those weighty decorations.
We’re twins. Omens. Like owls.

Let’s count eyelashes. Do we
still have the same number?
Do we still count fleecy sheep,
same number – and then sleep?
Are we still Us, you and me?

If we were owls, would we
still know each star – would we
still smile while we dream?
Congrats, sis, our melodies
exist, still running ledger lines,

and we’re just like two owls.