To start with, there was just one path

and the world wanted to see the likeness;

the twindom covered them all over

and the world hoped for shared dreams,

for a single language,

for a unity of play,

for all that dreamt-of absorption into the other.

What we saw were the grey old ladies,

trapped in their uniform

side by side

cut off from the world,

imprisoned by likeness,

made infertile by similarity.

One path at the start

but life begins with division

and its unfathomable potential.

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