TR Brady

TESTOSTERONE DAYDREAM

I’m a negative twin. A double negative twin.
Positively twin! I dye my hair blonde and look for
my twin but they’re gone or a long time ago. A long
time ago my twin was a brunette. I ask my twin to
perform experiments on me but our time is up. I go
to sleep and dream of nothing at all. In the morning
my jaw is locked. I massage my jaw in the shower.
The shower casts nothing out of me even though I
ask it to. I shave my jaw to be sharp like my twin.
My twin wears my clothes without asking, but I don’t
mind. I tell my twin two truths and one lie, but my
twin doesn’t want to play. They’re always slipping
out or turning up at the wrong hour. Calling my name
from the hall, washing their hair in my sink, driving
my car. My twin is the exits-mysteriously twin.
Here’s where they can’t be found and I’m lousy
about it. Here’s where I look for them in everything.

TR BRADY is a poet and fiber artist from Arkansas who received their MFA from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. Their work has appeared in The Arkansas International, New England Review, Poetry Daily, and Tin House. The co-founder and co-editor of Afternoon Visitor, they live in Moscow, Idaho.