Flashing lights and familliar sillhouettes,
blurred and slurred by the height of my intoxication
and all i've had is orange juice but i'm clinging onto anything
to get me high.
the sight and smell
of glossy black nail varnish,
the rhythm of his feet
and her feet
and their feet
and our feet.
the night is young and so are we,
half of us inebriated and the other
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