Bizarre, though it may seem,
It was true in life, in thought.
We were symbols of affinity,
So close, yet were claims of being siblings.
Desperate, everyday to hear her voice,
Throaty laughter with innocent,
And affectionate names for me.
Allowing a day to grow,
Slithering into night was tough
Without visualising her.

Reaching deep into my memories
Spewing forth the times we had,
The times we didn’t.
What we feel in reality is deep-rooted,
Love as in adorable and deny it,
Neither can.

Anger never rears its head with us,
But jealousy does, daring outsiders to
Tread on sacred territory.
Possessive to the core and well
Reciprocated too, one can say,
Still we are siblings, are we?

Lust has never been a problem
When we are together
It has never appeared,
nor have any of its cousins.
Recognising one another’s sexuality
And respecting the other for it
We are models of platonic relations.
We are friends, but siblings are we?