My twin still tries to convince me
That love is a need.
I am good at wearing costumes.
In fact, I've won on many Halloweens.
A tough facade, a hard-to-break shell
Encases my fragility, and I become
A superhero of my own.
It is both a barrier and a weapon.
Scraping mold and stain over the years,
I keep polishing it like a mirror.
A part of me wears nothing but air.
Nudity makes my embarrassed skin
Blush for armor or protective shield.
I think emptiness is nakedness.
Vulnerability kneels in the confession box,
Honest about a need.
My male is a fierce loner,
While my female is a hungry lover.
Each one is trying to break
The fulcrum of my balance -
Marriage, Screwing, Marriage, Screwing...
Half of me is praying for loving.