The Dead Twin

Alone tonight and restless, pacing
in and out the door, claws marching
across linoleum.  A vacuum of time
where motion keeps the mind from focusing
on what it's missing.  A child scribbling
furiously ineligible, frantic lines and circles.

In a house made red with waiting, walls
shrunk in and beating, a diseased heart
trapped within its desperate symptoms
longing for the long-straight line, the silenced
beeping.  I'm trained to save you;  what have
I saved you for?

You are the prize.  We both have lost
our twin.  

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