An Airless Dance

What do we do now, sister of mine

that you have retrieved your knife from my spine? 

And with a rueful smile, declared me dead

"It was either me or you" you said

Ah. So she had noticed the pattern that abides

with the unfavoured child

And she too agreed, that I belonged on the outside

Sad thing is, she was right

Ours was a breathless existence

Always gasping for air in pursuit of the last musical chair

I almost convince myself we are sharing a dance

How we glide and grin, spin in each other's arms

But then the music stops

And all camaraderie is lost