Shadows of Self
No one
realizes my
genius for
science &
my flare
for invention.
No one,
not even
my mother,
knows that
I created a
biological clone
when I was
three &
then
slipped into
the shadows.
Even my
most intimate
lovers never
realized it
wasn’t me
they held in
their arms,
although the
more sensitive
among them
sensed something
wasn’t quite
right.
Now they
want me to
come to the
Czech Republic
& promote the
translated version
of one of
my books.
I sat up
all night
drinking tea
with my
clone,
prepping him
for the
trip ahead,
& as the
sun came
up he
lowered his
head &
wept.
“I can’t
go on,”
he said.
“I can’t
do it
anymore.”
I comforted
him as
best I
could,
told him to
go in &
catch some
shut eye,
things would
look brighter
when he’d
had some
sleep.
I can
hear him
in there
now,
lightly snoring.
