I can hear you two wrestling in
the other room. she says 'want
some grape-fruit? it heals bruises.'
I think of the hickey, I think of her,
I think of you- - - and I begin to hate
all three of us. I'm as confused as your
lack of regret. I'm as confused as my
sizzling heart, and the key to the lamp
-shade begins to melt away as I think of
you and our repeating cycle. what keeps
running through my head is an old Native
American proverb I once heard in Sid Meier's
Civilization:

"Chase 2 rabbits into a forest, and you can
*expect to lose them both."