I never knew she was my twin. While I was ugly, she was beautiful. When I was dirty, she was clean. Since my hands were rough, hers were smooth. While my eyes were brown, hers were gold.
I never knew she was my twin. She was early and I was late. I told her to take care of people, and she told me to take care of myself. I shouted and she responded in whispers.
I never knew she was my twin. I wouldn't have guessed in pajamas, with a nightlight. I never knew she was my twin until she took my life off my back and tried it on. It fit her perfectly, and she carried it for me down the road. I had only packed it too full of nonsense.