"Sure, we were twins. We were the fucking Gibbons twins."
September faded in like fury at
an old wound,
crashed in as unstoppably as any tsunami,
and I found myself
            -- perhaps unsurprisingly --
         pulling thorns from my skin
      spitting mouthfuls of venom into the sink
   drowning with lungs full of oxygen.
emotions are fatal when
   the jacaranda begin to blossom,
   feelings all a-riot in pale purple
      & summercreeping warmth.
One day
      (or so I must believe,
      for sanity's sake if nothing more)
I can see as it it crashes in like thunder,
      like cymbals, like rage & like inferno
it will last a gasping lifetime and set
      all of us free, liberty like blood.
and then, somehow
            I'm free of you,

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