<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
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My Twin Brother: Or, Coming Out<\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n He was the one with all the girls. He brought them At school, they taught me how to live like him, So, one evening, as the darkness was spinning spilled across the sheets, moonlit and handsome. wincing as the loose head smacked on each step. Like birds flapping in a thicket the latches to his body like a streetlamp, <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Se\u00e1n Hewitt<\/strong> was born in Warrington, UK, in 1990, and read English at Girton College, Cambridge. His poetry has been published in magazines including Poetry, The Manchester Review, Agenda, The SHOp,<\/em> and Northwords Now, <\/em>amongst others. In 2011, he won the Rima Alamuddin Prize. His website is at www.seanehewitt.com<\/a>, and he tweets@seanehewitt<\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" My Twin Brother: Or, Coming Out He was the one with all the girls. He brought them home in droves and they lay on the bed, their quiet minds like lungs, emptying and filling. At school, they taught me how to live like him, how to wear his one-size-fits-all skin and […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3698","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3698","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3698"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3698\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3700,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3698\/revisions\/3700"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3698"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3698"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3698"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nhome in droves and they lay on the bed,
\ntheir quiet minds like lungs, emptying and filling.<\/p>\n
\nhow to wear his one-size-fits-all skin
\nand tack it up mawkishly along my spine.<\/p>\n
\nits slow, intricate web over the street,
\nI slit his throat. The sandbag of his body<\/p>\n
\nAnd I didn\u2019t cry; I wept. Wind-blown clouds
\nwitnessed mutely as I lugged him down the stairs,<\/p>\n
\nOnce I had him out the door, I rapped
\non every house and tore the quiet night in two.<\/p>\n
\ncluttered up, hinges swung apart, to reveal
\nthe colophon of me, standing right-angled<\/p>\n
\nthe long road stretching out behind,
\nwhole lives opening in my eyes.<\/p>\n