theory of relativity

by ty

there’s little difference between being first and second:
first being a sharp reminder aching
through dried bones and hollow
veins, and the second being the first
to lose

especially when the race only involves
two
exhausted and bled dry,
joint at the hip

severed at the indents
between
pale knuckles
grazed and ingrained with lost verses,

graced with the silent sting of blank
film and salt grains as one pulls the trigger
on a plastic gun

and marks the start of the race

sprite fuelling deadweight towards the zero place
because theoretically

everyone loses and regrets are arbitrary

even as i still recall every edge of your voice

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