Two

there are two smoke signals

my lungs have clouded

they are the twin towers

(only these will stand for years to come 

and only crumble occasionally)

there are two hands

one to hold each city

but i see them freeze and crack and bleed

from the weight and from the pull

there is an apple where my heart once was

sometimes i think it might be rotting

(i think it started the day i traded it in

for my innocence)

there are two eyes and two feet

who tailor specifically to their two surroundings

there are two people in one body

(who will never be at peace)

there are two months left

until the one year anniversary 

of my two year stay 

of the one time i moved

into the second city i'd ever lived

(two should fit neatly into one)

but there are still two testaments to the holy bible

and still no balm in gilead

2003