Siblings 1

by Annette Snyckers

Only the two of us,

you were much older —
serious, always studying,
but I knocked on your bedroom door
when I, lonely child,
wanted to play, or talk.

I climbed onto your bed
very early one morning
when you were still wrapped
in Ouma’s eiderdown,
lost in your teenage dreams –
you would not wake up.
I carefully took your eyelids
between my fingertips
and pulled them apart –
oh joy, you were still alive!

But you were not perfect –
shock set in that day I snooped
in your desk drawers – and found
some forgotten orange peels
growing grey-green fur.

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