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Tonight I am alone in the mirror,
which is odd, since dark glass is where I met
you both, twins, as if you came to answer
that one question about when a duet
becomes a trio or when a couple
becomes a threesome. Two peony buds
on a branch with your dead eyes and soulful
Yangtze flexion. You taught me new methods
to cum the night both Gǒu and I slid deep
inside Māo. Inside the mirror we pinned
you to the bed, feeling Gǒu’s cock throbbing
a mere breath away from my own. I weep
now in the glass alone as the night wind
tells me love is not meant for the living.