Wednesday, June 8, 2011

"David, 17, Dreams of His Dead Twin Brother (During A Thunder Storm)"

David, 17, Dreams of His Dead Twin Brother (During a Thunder Storm)

I got your letter.
I wish I could
understand what
you’re trying to tell me.

When I cut myself shaving,
do you bleed?
Do you see me in your mirror?
I see you.

At night,
I think I have
only
one eye.

But I’ll get it back
when the sun and moon
shine on our
birthday.

©JEF 1987

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