• Vol. 07
  • Chapter 10

Twin Souls

The moon is crystal clear marble,
woven into the fabric that constitutes
my soul with the origin of ways
where you are as you’ve always been;
my rescue, my refuge.

My brain activates the light as it blazes
down in the darkness. The edges are
electric, sharing an intimate life with
another; an insurance that a second chance
at love is not a second chance at all,

but the initial gift of transcendental joy,
free spirited and independent. I eagerly
ride the linger of memories, crying softly
at the simultaneous communication of
moments that continued

waving to one another through the spans
of time. There are crumpled up pages, a
box full of journals where we wrote our
hurt again and again, whispering to each
other between the probe

and the pry of stranger’s eyes. We’ve smiled
at the look of unfamiliarity, confused at the
lack of depth and understanding, but knowing
full well we’d one day reunite; saved from
the insanity of being physically apart.


Twin Souls

Your ink is my ink, sealed, solid, colored.
We’ve scribbled, doodled, sketched
and drawn, seeing no lines to proceed
accordingly in, no rules in the grand scheme
of things.

Our words became the task, balancing our
female and male sides in the twists, turns
and torrents of our pen where we’ve given
the other a life, a purpose. You are my stained
glass window, framed and trimmed

with supportive peace and love. The color mix
is our cover photo working on a subconscious level
to bring about the awareness of insight. In it is the
essential truth, within the written notes of encouragement;
and in our home, I find the ending to our story.