I can taste the scarlett drawn by his bite of my lips
I have glazed over eyes and dull grey skin.
My twin has flushed cheeks and rainbow windows.
The grey or primary colours bore us;
together the vermillion in our veins is deeper and there is synesthesia:
instead of feeling dead or simply seeing red,
I can taste the scarlett drawn by his bite of my lips.
Its dripping warmth claws at his back, it teases and pulls at his hair, and it sets ablaze our skin
-melting me to my twin.