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poetry

The Lost Species

The Lost Species

Look, said Noah, I said choose the one you love.
It’s not my fault you misunderstood. It’s not my fault
you have to fuck your sister. You should have known,
when I said the sacred words: choose the girl. There can be just one.

What do you mean you aren’t going to fuck her? Have you lost your–
well the whole point is to continue, or why the hell get on the boat?
You think what, we enjoy sailing around in this cramped thing
in a world with nowhere left to hold our ground?

You are a disgrace. The world will wash away your history.
Not even a memory of the shape of you will survive.
You should have known what kind of love I meant.