One twin rehearses apologies like verses,
pausing for effect, smooth in delivery,
her eyes cast downward, a small performance,
as if the offense was merely white noise.
The other tumbles into their mother’s arms,
a cascade of sorrow, wet and heavy,
her words spilling without rhyme or meter,
a flood of regret too real to structure.
The first twin measures cause and reaction,
a mathematician balancing consequences,
while the second clings like a frightened bird,
the weight of guilt pressing down her chest.
Both sorry in their own odd arrangements,
one seeking respite, one seeking repair,
their mother holding both versions of love,
deciphering the truth inside their words.