"I turn over to you the keys of your life," he said.
-Gabriel Garcia Marquez

They two, in shape and texture, twins,
wandering in loops and stretches
as termites in wood.
We sit sedentary
as scenes and centuries pass.
My sister can barely bend
to put on her boots,
a baby, belly wrapped,
in her way.
We wait: for the space to grow bigger
for the new thing to come,
to know each others as something else.