Out of the Ocean

There were two births, not one. After me, my twin –
a deep-red, glistening stone everyone ignored.
It was me all eyes were on – my ten toes, my hands like starfish curling, the distress
on my face in the air.

The midwife smiled when I chose to break
the silence, but the other, silent form
I’d clung to under the water
was dropped in an enamel tray and taken away.

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