The Ancients
agile in the dust,
uncrushable flounders,
they fawn to butterfly-kiss our toes.
such stricken veterans of misdeed.
anachronous anchors.
zealous mental shackles.
they apologize, yet whiny,
hurling both jibes and pleas,
barbed as they barb us with not-so-gone sin:
“we suffer, we suffer,
and so should you, and you will--and you have--
because we were so damn cruel.”
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