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My hip dislodged, it stutters, bends
towards the sky: a glassy languid face hung
against the window. Do curl against
the corner of my eye, from thrown
bas-relief of lamp -- so i feel nothing,
save for extension
from drinking too much wine.
Forgive my innocence -it gave back to the gods,
like beads of perspiration
against the small of back, gave back
| Very thought provoking, thanks. This does not dictate a story so much as it invites one's own trying to place things, if you know what I mean. "give back to the gods" is always a good idea.|
Sometimes I get the feeling that the gods favor the occasional drinking of "too much wine", or other such mind adjustments.
|| Posted on 2020-08-22 00:00:00 | by Blue Monk | [ Reply to This ] |