As the rising ends and the setting comes
And the bolster of the city begins to slowly shift
A moment paused
My breath held…
Sister light sits on our bed
Wringing her hands
Her body swaying to a slow pulse
Her hair, falling like willows, framing her face.
Her fingers twirling, shaking like paper.
Sister dark stands, hand on hip
Weight shifted, knee bent
Grinning toothily down on our bed
Her head cocked, crooked like bent steel.
Her smile smooth, dancing like jackals.
They fall together and wrestle on our blankets
Pillows falling to the floor
Breathless sighs and heavy pants linger long after.
They stare at each other, muted, neutral, neither defeated
Sister light weeps.
Silent tears streaking her cheeks like slugs.
Sister dark laughs.
Guttural sounds filling the empty air like drums.
My sisters. My natures. Myself, in battle that never ends.
War that never resolves.
No treaties. No barters or silent handshakes.
The decent ends, hot darkness filing in between the pillars of concrete.
Sister light fades, her flickering body glistening like gossamer strands.
Her translucent tears still dripping – making our bed sweat.
Sister dark stands alone, tilts her head once
And we walk out the door.