love & xenophobia

it was noon,
in the middle of the night.

two dead lovers rose from slumber,
stood back to back,
and drew swords –
pointed,

gunshot fires.

a mile away, a deaf policeman
hears the shot ring out.

and now there stood
two-twice dead lovers,
as witness to testify the
fractured boundaries of love.

i swear, my oath,
the blind man saw it too

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