cups
as if pulled by strings
two puppets of the same master
lift their cups to open lips
fill themselves
spill over the edges
drink each other in
think of love and of sin
and the convergence of fate
and destiny
one bites too much
one too little
they find they cannot meet in the middle
the cups fall
one cracks
the other is saved
one cries deperately in the night
the other escapes unscathed
This poem is about:
Me