Gemini

My apartment has two rooms connected by a hallway lined with books. One's pristine, the other a curated mess. Both are mine. I’m the linen button-down and the frayed band tee. One self craves order, the other impulse. They argue over playlists, then agree on the way the moonlight slants at dusk. Come in—I’ll serve you tea precisely poured or sloshed joyfully, depending on which side answers the door.