They say five babies are born every second
I think of them often
your twins in time
landing in the world alongside you
the shock of air and light
but mostly I think of their mothers
my sisters
a small enough group
that I feel I should know them
their suburb
their refugee camp
their village that clings like claws
to the edge of the cliff
sometimes we shiver together
five tiny ripples under the dome of the sky
a mix of joy and fear
at the impossible vulnerability
of flesh.