Monday, 15 June 2026

'The Loneliness of the Single Twin' by Joyce Bingham

It was in the morning, in class, when a minor thought drifted into my head, blossoming like a cherry tree bud.


Petals shared and answers given; I knew it was you, and I returned lilies, white and majestic, I adored them.


Practice was amusing and we played jokes on everyone, always a twosome, not conjoined in body, but in mind.


In school, we studied similar subjects, shared friends, finished each other’s sentences but we’d parted to different cities.


Then I couldn’t find you within me, there were no flowers, only a wall of barbed thistles.


You’d barricaded your mind, to hide from me; chided I wept, bereft of your soft petals.


At home you’d changed, every shared flower had sharp thorns with pollen that stained scarlet.


A wall of ivy separated us and I was alone for the first time.


When you married, I was your bridesmaid, and carried lilies in my hands.


They were stripped of pollen, as you had stripped yourself of me. 

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