A pair of Tenderonis. Pubic. Bikini. Diet coke. 

It's 9:30 am. 
Castor and the Other One share one bottle of Diet Coke.  She takes a sip and eyeballs it.  "You got one more gulp".  
Ok, Gulp.  They eyeball again.  
Ok, that was half. 
They hold hands and walk to the South Miami beach trash can to toss the bottle. Their heads toggle like balloons.

Luke warm
Flat
Syrupy
Black
Zero calories, zero net gain.  
Castor and the Other One gallop on their ivory horses to the infinity of whatever Diet's Cokes infinity looks like.

Twins stand for each other.  A double makes cross cancellation.  
The Gemini are lucky to witness a slow erasure of the other - like that way frumpy earth stands in front of the moon: "hey asshole, you're in my lane"
The seagulls at 9:30 am are beggary. Castor and the Other Ones torsos are tubular and long like an HVAC -  there to heat air and cool air.

They talk and talk and talk and talk,  inaudible. They talk. 
Wind rips through their fairly made baby hair heads : ET and rectangular.   
They won something :  pre-pubic and menopausal. The Something Nothing.

They went swimming. One giant wave matted their heads like a Wipey.

- 2016

Images Forthcoming