from bed, fulfilling promises

the glass almost broke but bounced

i wasn’t sloppy, clumsy

never quite knowing where my hands flip as thoughts distance me from physical realities

i’m in a chair, living through concocted histories of humans i’ve never met

nevertheless, i bumped into you, a weak grip threw, the last bits of your beer in his face

he was innocent

as much as the rest of us

making sense of collective company

i picked it up

flushed face from the sound

and regained my composure

until the next story is found

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