by Ines P. Rivera-Prosdocimi<\/p>\n
After my twin, my next love was a kindergarten boy.
\nLawrence with his white hair and white grin
\nas he stood in the corner peeking at me
\nas I peed to show him we were blood.
\nOur hands were the same size, though different
\ncolors, and we fought like we liked running
\nor story books, or sticking our tongues out
\nat the girls who\u00a0 found it fun to collect clovers.
\nWe told each other those things we keep\u2014
\nif our twin sisters died, we\u2019d die too,
\nand take all the maps in the map room to find
\nour souls. He may not remember
\nthe way he traced my hand forever,
\nor how I said God gave the teacher\u2019s aide cancer.
\nI wish I could say, last I heard, my buddy Lawrence\u2026
\nbut truth is, the day before he moved,
\nhe held a clip knife to my neck, then leaned in,
\nput his warm forehead against me.
\nWe were six or seven. A dusky afternoon.
\nA long silence before we both took a breath.<\/p>\n
(2018)<\/p>\n
Used by permission of the author.<\/pre>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Surrogate Twin by Ines P. Rivera-Prosdocimi After my twin, my next love was a kindergarten boy. Lawrence with his white hair and white grin as he stood in the corner peeking at me as I peed to show him we were blood. Our hands were the same size, though different colors, and we fought like … Continue reading Surrogate Twins<\/span>