By Willow Kang Liew Bei
Twins lay in the cold earth’s embrace,
each suckling from the same primordial vein
their slumber too heavy to be weighed
upon scales, only paralleled
by a celestial goat’s horns
one weeps a waterfall
for all the forsaken stars, beheaded
before they could form constellations
& the other watches passively,
understanding, but never quite discerning
the many tricks
of steel blades sifting
through reptilian coats
whoever sees them knows too
the loudness of the humming void
which drowns their heartbeats
I sow for them each, an ember
cast into frosty windows
About the author:
Willow is a writer from Singapore. After school, find her reading thick history textbooks, aimlessly writing poems, and solving frustrating math problems, in a futile attempt to conquer boredom. Just make sure that her coffee bowl stays full.