to avoid civil war, the flat/the holy land is colonised and split into four unequal parts. it's my fault/art's idea.
the arab/sage (which i find out is their name not long after finding out she is not in fact a she. but a they) gets:
1) the living room armchair.
2) our bedroom window
3) our bedroom radiator
4) the tv boxset (which looks straight out of 2006).
in other words, they get the fragments of a land/the west bank and the gaza strip. disconnected and disjointed and the fault of art/a white man who drew lines in the sand.
art and otto share everything. even each other's bed. even each other's company. everything. except for the paintings on the wall. otto gets every last one.
a lot of it is stolen from the charity shop we work at but some of them are from millennial artists with too much student loan debt and even more spare time.
and art/our white coloniser come to save us all from ourselves, lets him. lets him own all the art in our home. even him.
maybe he isn't so white/greedy, after all.
i get the kitchen. two thirds of the bedroom i "share" with sage. (including the outlet between our beds and the empty bookshelf that doesn't allow the door to shut).
in other words, i get africa before it sold its people and drained itself for oil money/so much fucking potential.
♡
i saw this style of using "/ " in a poetry piece by miserablemidas you should totally check out her stuff because she's far more talented than me.
