i had a bad dream my clone says what was it you say

                   – Oscar Schwartz, “what side of the bed does your clone sleep on?”
My clone is acting strangely.

My clone is breathing fast.

      How do we know – she says

walking into glass.
My clone thinks we are pregnant

given my tender breasts,

she says we dreamt of anemones

but I don’t remember it.
Convenience stores only stock

tests with teethy women

smiling widely on the box.
You know – my clone says

      an oasis faded

      is a desert found.

I hear her voice folded

through sheets dipped in waves,

hidden water falling out.
My clone will not panic.

My clone is always calm.

My clone cannot get pregnant.

      How do I know – she says.
My clone remembers star jasmine

arched up against our windows,

as it swallowed our fence

and breathed all night against glass.
My clone remembers the coolness of the dive

into my grandfather’s pool.

My clone would never

buy a German car.
At a certain point my clone

will lie with my head against her chest.
She will bite her bleeding lip

and I’ll taste none of it.