The double take impregnated desire in both parties. Or did it.

(We’ll suck on that sugar-coated lemon for the remainder of our days.)

In dreams they meshed well, swimmingly even, though waking life led only to the double take, and once a brush of limbs.

Their twinned desire, limned in mind alone, clashed like rutting stags. From their invisibly ravaged bodies a horn or two broke off in a fugue of predestination.

(Perhaps you found one in the woods and thought of them.)

At the party one befriended a dog while the other dematerialized with a stranger.

Stranger things have happened. It’s an old story and doppelgängers may have been involved.

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