I remember it in pieces,
the day the division began and lines were drawn.
She sat on the side faced with discontent and I was greeted with smiles.
I was told I did well and the girl I picked was beautiful,
while she was told she was too young for such actions.
We were 5 and I kissed a girl,
we were playing house,
they told me I will be the man of the home and encouraged my actions,
she kissed a boy and committed a taboo,
she was told she wasn’t allowed to do that ever again,
so the foundation of her womanhood was girls can’t kiss boys and still be special.
We were 5 when we got the talk,
and that was the end of our friendship,
the start of our siblingship.
We were no longer just us,
no longer womb mates,
for we learnt I was a boy,
she was a girl
and we would never be treated the same.