"Pluto wrote some
Love propaganda, fucking
hypocrite," Mercury says
as his face glows
in the computer screen,
"'Choose Love!'
it says. Want to read
and rebuttal, Persephone?"
Mercury asks.
"Not really, Mercury,"
Persephone shrugs.
"Why not?" he nudges.
Persephone lays like a Star
-fish, on top of her
sleeping bag,
"Because what is there
to say? If that is
the idea he has
of himSelves, and that is
working for him, great.
But I deserve an apology
if he wants to be
in relationship with me.
And he doesn't give me that.
It's not about domination.
It is about Love. And I
just don't care
to fight who he thinks
he is to me, anymore.
He doesn't have to take me
as a part of himSelves.
If he wants to think
he's a great
guy, great. Maybe
he is, to someone, somewhere,
and to himSelves. I could do without
his headache."