Hopefully this will be the last time that I blog about this subject. Hopefully if I write another poem about my late twin, that, too, will be the last one. For a long time, at least. That being said, I won’t stop talking about my twin, but I will tone it down from now on. Even my mama says I’m taking this too far.

Read Part one.

I remember reading Larry Geller’s blog about Elvis Presley’s last few years alive, and Larry was his hairdresser and personal confidant. And on this particular entry he recalled one of the last conversations that he had with Elvis. And when I read those things, right away I had an epiphany. The things that Elvis said about his twin are the exact same things that I’ve said about mine. Things i.e. why was I the one who made it and not the both of us? I mean, I shared mom’s womb with another human being at the same time. There has got to be a reason, or reasons why only one lived and the other didn’t. Like Elvis and many other Twinless Twins, I’ve spent these past few years meditating on this unfulfilled relationship. It’s like I got all the perks, I got all the gifts and whatnot. I really don’t know the reasons other than this imperfect system of things that we live in. But for some reason I feel that a part of him lives in me, and a part of me died with him. And I’ve been feeling like that for as long as I can remember. Most times when I go to bed I imagine he and I talking together. He had a wife and kids, and I only had a wife with no kids. Maybe two. I can’t help but to imagine how our lives would be today. But my imagination just won’t stop thinking about the possibilities.

One thing that really took me for surprise these past few days. I looked at myself in the mirror, and had a fantasy that my brother and I were seeing ourselves in that mirror. Like I said earlier, the very idea that I shared my mother’s womb with someone else just overwhelmed me to no end. And now when I look into a mirror, I envision that he and I look partially the same (we were fraternal twins).

Maybe I’ve been a bit too obsessive with the matter as of late, but I just can’t help it half the time. But again just knowing that I was/am part of a multiple birth, actually strengthened my belief in God. I feel sorry for those who feel otherwise. Life just cannot exist without a creator. And I guess having that epiphany kinda opened my eyes to new things that the dead-including miscarried and stillborn-will be alive again.

In the words of the late Elvis Presley himself on the matter, “anything is possible”.

Once a twin, ALWAYS a twin!