Justin Jannise
I am jealous of “my twin”—
the phrase, not the person.
I do not have a twin
as far as I’m aware
but Emily does
and when she drops “my twin”
into brunch, as casually
as she’ll slip her AmEx
out of a leather billfold,
I am filled with twin envy.
I want help from someone
more or less just like me
to take care of my parents and
ratify my worst decisions.
I want to say it
and have it be true:
“This is my twin.”
Why does being one
sound so much less
than being half of two?
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