Conjoined
at the hip,
Not by
fission
But
fusion,
I
needed her,
But
she was dying.
It was
not my decision
To
separate—
Separate
from her
My
body felt lighter.
The
air, heavier
Where
she had been—
My
muscle memory missed her.
The
outgoing one,
Only
through her
I
found my connection to the world.
When
my friends next saw me
They only
asked where she was.
Without
her by my side, they soon forgot me,
For
there was no one calling to remind.
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