Separation

 

“We had a kettle, we let it leak.

Our not repairing it made it worse.

We haven’t had any tea for a week.

The bottom is out of the universe!”

                      Rudyard Kipling “Natural Theology”

 

Every night, I close my eyes,

fall asleep and go mad.

I meet people who are dead

and encounter people who

never existed and wind up

in places where I have

never been and never will be.

 

Mornings are for mourning

the memory of the other

as I wake up in hospital,

a formerly conjoined twin

with my drugs wearing off.

I know I need to start over

in this less than quaint

small town of my life.

 

I miss the other one

even as he’s gazing back,

our faces a mockery

of discomforting recognition.

Once joined at the head

we now have

our own thoughts

as separate as

a butterfly from

a cocoon.

  

8/11/22