Self-consumed,
they sit,
affectionate
enough, content:
as far as I
can tell, they’re doing well.
One looks up,
the other looks at nothing clear.
Did I bring
them here?
I thought I’d
brought them here.
They’ve caught
me at a brink.
Do they want
more from being than to be?
The creatures
that I think I’ve drawn draw me.
.
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