passin' 'round the bottle of white zin, light
beer leftovers in our mouths. playin' cards,
dancing, skinny girls resembling penny lane
swishing the zinfandel back and forth moving
luxuriously through space and time. couch
cushions and kissing, giving thumbs up. we
dance, we get lost somewhere between notes,
lost in the ballerina movement of my arms,
we're in another place, the same in the morning.
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