Vodka

A blur of what is
behind
a world that bends, splits, divides
into a fizz of madness and life.
Spirits seep softly away
in one oily breath
and call out from the death
which swims beyond the day.
Colourless, we die into each other
as bubbles race toward the sky,
pushing past one another.
Together we forget ourselves
and spill over the glass – hall full.

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