Birthdays
Birthdays were always shared.
Two cakes sat mid-table,
‘Happy Birthday’ was sung
with two names instead of one.
I did not like being a twin,
having a sister the same age,
always being labeled more
as a composite, having
a shared identity, a part
instead of being a whole.
I felt as if I was diluted.
I did not like the fuss,
being different than the other
boys who blended seamlessly
together at school when I
was singled out. My sister
was the devout one,
unquestioning whilst I
was the opposite, the dark
shadow in contrast to her light.
My world was an unlit room.
It was so for most of our lives,
obedience versus rebellion,
extrovert versus introvert,
traditionalist versus radical,
she a lover of boundaries
whereas I busted far too many.
My sister has been dead now
for a decade. I miss her,
my dear twin,
the counterbalance to me.
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