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They March in Pairs

They breathe as one
Each waiting in the dead of night
For an angel
Of hope, or maybe love
Or just a smile?

The Eleanor Rigby’s of adolescence
Sit in silence of themselves
Trapped in the lions’ cage, paralyzed
with fear of the unknown monster
Only to glance down and see
deadly claws on their hands.

Their heart beats match the steady tick of
years spent perched wondering, why?
Why salvation does not appear at their feet.

They hear the starting gun; they race
Through mazes of street signs
Taxis, subways, avenues
To beg the universe for a heartbeat
that matches the tick of seconds, dying,
fearing change.

They suffer hearing two heartbeats
instead of one, broken
Two hearts defeating the hands of time
In an infinite song filled
with knowing glances and silent laughter

They trudge through pain
And heartbreak
And betrayal

Only to end back in the
Dark corners of the world, exhausted
Gasping for another set of lungs with which to share
Their solitary final breath

But they breathe as one
Side by side
And they die as one
Hand in hand

After a life lived to search
For a lover to bury them.



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