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Hilltop: A Literary Paper. Volume 1 Number 1

Twin Sons Were Born at the Eleventh Hour

Twin Sons Were Born at the Eleventh Hour

We who escaped together from the dark,
Doubling our blood towards the bright egress,
Faced suddenly the panic of the eye
Each turned upon his blood's antagonist.

For, in the nurturing dark, a war began—
Each claiming his leonine share of earth
Prenatally acknowledging the man
Born into slaughter from the breath of birth,

Contesting from that immanent transcription
That wrote their names upon the thriving womb
The right of exodus-their charted lives
Were to burst forth like a spasmodic bomb

Cleaving the air of their inheritance:
Pre-doomed to love the body of one flesh
And to destroy each other in her sight.
Granting her nothing who had nothing wished.