She is no mirror.
She does not reflect me.
Nor is she my echo.
She is, rather, my harmony line
Not always harmonious, of course
The odd dissonance when we were children.
A brief dabble with atonalism in our twenties.
And the silence between the notes has always made the music.
Our solos are pretty damn fine, even if we do say so.
But when we come together
The music takes on an air of magic.
My sister completes me.
In honour of my amazing sibling, who has just spent Easter with me, along with her daughter and putative son-in-law.
And who left this morning.
Miss her already!