She’s the one who’s barefoot
Calluses like scars, braving the blacktop.
She always pushed just a little harder
    walked a little farther
toes to the edge, peeking over with held breath.

I stopped jumping
    years ago.
Fearing not just the impact
but the belly rush of adrenaline on the way down
    always wanting more.

My wild twin reaches for me now
Hold my hand, she sings
Hold your breath.
I take off my shoes.