Many of the surviving paintings imply
They grew up together friends
Two boys plotting their escape
In a busy household
Where the women ruled
The fathers worked and worried
And the children were sent to school
And yet one of them became
One of the loneliest figures
In all of history's ruination
And seems to have spent his whole life
In a kind of festival of longing
He who knew from the first
But kept their secret safe
Until the heavens burst
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