Vanishing twin syndrome - a poem

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Vanishing Twin Syndrome  

Brent Goodman

Turns out one in ten of us suffer: rootless tooth,
clot of hair, undeveloped elbow, unmistakable hinge.

In utero, two mirrors breathe - convex, concave - early term
ultrasounds map our disappearance in grainy holographic gloss.

One in ten of us begin as twins but absorb our sibling
entirely (a small voice claims the inner ear its cathedral),

an unknowing fraction even suspend evidence a second body
once belonged. Best science not alert us to what we might

carry, best what we carry not define what we’ve lost - one
in ten suddenly half-missing, clutched hand still in the womb,

bare feet kicking sky beneath a serpent of stars.
Here, the part of you still floating. Here, what blessing

born within us, infinite reflection, echo of doubt.

Brent Goodman is the author of Far From Sudden (Forthcoming 2012 Black Lawrence Press) and The Brother Swimming Beneath Me (2009 Black Lawrence Press). He lives in Rhinelander, WI, where he is an assistant editor for Anti- and a poetry instructor with the Dzanc Creative Writing Sessions.

Read the poem online here