Watch Party

I got the name
of a character wrong
And when I reach
my hand for another
hand there is often
another drink
one I must pretend
I didn’t see
Friendship to me
is nothing more
than the accumulation
of people, a rough
telepathy of sand
being told apart
from other sand
I wish I wasn’t me
I’ve locked myself
in a sculpture artist’s
room of drafts. This
is how I go
holding out my ego
looking at it


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