That the treatment to which they subscribe
requires the meditative repetition
of their silent promise to imbibe
their lives as one great seamless coalition –
that their friendship should entail this price:
a unity beyond the ken of others'
human bonds: which lets divisions splice
as if into one heart (a perfect mother's) –
that their clothing now coordinates –
imbues the room with single-minded hues –
and that the felt effect subordinates
all difference to a whisper – isn’t news.
Yes, life unites for them into a plum!
Dum-de-dum. No wonder they look glum.
.
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