Bindings of love

I'm still working in fits and starts on the new poetry collection, the working title of which is "Bindings of Love." Here's one from that series.

Sister

We are black cats,
sleek and self-possessed,
yellow-eyed and sometimes wild.
We share the secret language
we made up as children:
code words, hand signals, tumbling dirty
skinned knees out of trees.
You are made of the same DNA as me,
so how could I not love you,
and hate you--a little.
Smartass, smart, so damned smart,
the way you see the world is so cock-eyed
roomfuls of people turn their head 180 degrees
to see right, the way you see
with your head on straight.

We are always racing
toward a finish line, you and me.
They told us to stop;
it wasn't a competition.
Nothing was at stake.
But the world is burning out there,
flame eating what is precious to all of us.
I smell smoke, 
and the word fire is on your lips,
like we are one person sometimes
on a mission given to us at birth.