Do I hate you?
No. I do.
Am I jealous?
Yes. I’m not.
Can you give me?
No. You can.
Will it hurt?
No. Quite a lot.
Do I want all that is yours?
Yes, I don’t. This much is true.
Will I sweat it just to get it?
Should I, must I be like you?
Tempt me to begrudge your title.
Tease me to the point of shame.
When we both are gone, forgotten,
Who is left to speak our name?
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