Due Inversia

I.

Agape, my brother.

This notion we

do not yet observe:

 

Soured, our eyes

throw daggers and

spit needles.

We cannot decide which is worse.

 

“Ten years,” We say,

“ten years of friendship,”

“Things will never change.”

 

II.

We walk with willows.

Lashes of giants acquiesce

while ancestors weave signs.

 

Rescue costs $3.33

My dog sits like a human

And business is business.

 

“Life’s a bitch and then you die,”

Echoes the lo-fi track.

It fades to silence.

 

III.

My heart beats.

It rocks the mattress.

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