Tired old love
instead of finding things easier at the end of a long talk
the same problems stand in front of us as though a sphinx
paws folded casually layering the threat of claws the difference
is now that we've wrapped them in conversation we find the
riddles more personable even friendly but no less impossible
instead of solving them we marry them to us we take them to
bed with us carry them like suitcases of souvenirs like saddle
bags of provisions we eat them for sustenance we wrap them
around our wounds we curl up in them against the night we
hold them to us like tender lovers we hold them against each
other like gravest enemies who kiss vengeance each morning
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