THE WEAVE:

Venus, Vesta, and Mars

keep walking, through

the tunnel, in their helmets-…

"Vesta," asks Mars,
"Who is your ideal
partner?"

"A chaotic poetic
asshole, like Bo Burnham,
singing about the fucked up
state of the World," muses Vesta
without hesitation.

"Are you serious?"
asks Venus.

"Yeah," shrugs Vesta,
"I'm a sucker for existential
kink.  I prefer crazy
men, like Orpheus, strumming
against the odds.  Why?
What's yours?  Someone
who plays fantasy
football, and does not
feel anything?"

"I dunno," Venus thinks,
"Maybe..."

"Well, that's great,"
Vesta calls back,
"but it's not for me."