Some
people think
they’re
brothers,
but
they aren’t.
Others
are quite
certain
they are
more
than friends,
they’re
lovers –
but
they’re not.
All
we really know
is
every day
in
every weather,
cold
or hot,
they
come back,
to
the same bench
in
the park,
from
noon
to
one o’clock,
and
sit as close
as
if they were
two
tulips
in
a pot.
.
It
seems to be
their
lot in life:
their
spot.
.
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