Realtasy
I talk. You talk.
We don't communicate.
.
.
We walk away.
There is silence in our movements.
I don't know you.
You don't know me.
We are married.
[Should there be pain in this?
Am I your wife or a nameless face?]
I cook. You eat. You wash. I rest.
We don't do things together.
This is not reality.
This is realtasy.
Night comes.
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