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
to gravity.
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