Instead of the real thing there’s the idea.
Instead of love the notion of. This cold clasp
of irons a strange caress.
Attitude instead of discipline, or self
knowledge. Mirrors of funhouse
reflections reaching either way.
The mule of cowardice absent:
the corrosion loneliness will embrace
looking for a yes.
Instead of dedication, requesting dispensation.
Our own gift of aliens: who
resemble traitors so closely now
we cannot tell there ever was a difference.
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