(Born together and separated by a wall built by ourselves).
It began as an abstraction, and was reified by the evolving, rich separation— as slowly, and definitively as the frogs who boiled in water.
On each side, a caricature of the other. Uncomplicated, familiar. Nostalgic. A lifeless agglomeration of mostly resentments.
Sometimes they bring down the wall, temporarily, and finally reunite.
They wear the caricatures as masks, which feel comfortable, but dampen the ears, cover the eyes, and press the nostrils shut.
And as time runs out, they work together to put the wall back up, and over the wall, hand back their masks, to then—in quiet—slightly retouch the caricatures.