Beautiful and brown
Once I could crack those eyes open
Blindly searching for trinkets
A friendship bracelet woven out of ordinary things:

A cracked teacup
Burnt matches
Telephone numbers written down
On a pink slip of paper
Though--
We never could remember
Who they particularly belong to

And I would fiddle with my treasures
Measuring them in the palm of my hand
And smiling

As they would glow between my fingertips
Pulsing at my touch
With their throbbing pretty burning
Right into my flesh
Our fabrics meshing and swaying
To decayed music decades old
Centuries even

We've worn dresses assembled in melted snow
The wet overflow soaking through our skin
And we glowed white

We have danced through old streets and new years
Clearing our throats with misty coughs
Arms woven and knit through each other
Shouldering our baggage and hiding them in our skirts
Swollen and blowing against the icy sidewalk
The Christmas lights old and flickering bright
Like little forgotten pieces of hope

We have fallen
Clinging to those fruits that swallowed our mouths
Those juices which ruptured our stomachs
Capturing our souls inside the tree and feeding
Off of us and our loneliness
Our womanhood bathed in wanting to be
The fixation of someone's inspiration

But we were blown out of Eden together
Or should I say first I
And you soon after
Wandering streets carved by the footprints
Of each generation before
And yet to be

You used to read my palm
Staring at the strokes and creases
Ironing them flat as if they would reveal something different
A poem or slice of sunshine
Cut up and divided for easy digestion
So dissimilar to me

Instead you found wedding rings
All tied up tight and shivering
Scared to be seen

But
You've always been one for spectacles
Parading anger right through my chest
Letting the guilt bubble and blister
All across my skin

Sister
How can inner beauty be so selective
And love so subjective

Contradictions coil at your feet
They bite me
And fade