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your gift for true art

whatever that means

lost in a landslide

pills and wine

maybe you were being dramatic

when you said

you were sore

a silhouette of a shadow

as you stretched

like a cat on the windowsill

I found you later

picking ticks off your skin

dipping them in olive oil

and placing them on your twin

when you saw me

you twisted your shoulders

made your spine a figure eight

beckoned with a finger

asked how much I’d pay

for my fortune

you didn’t take no for an answer

chased me to the cornfields

retreated when I fell

asleep in the stalks

I awoke with a tarot

card between my teeth

ticks in my hair

and a feeling

I’d been there before