Hungover
a little light in the eye searches for the illusion.
grain alcohol filled apparitions stumble through the cornea
seeking asylum from the light of day.
no chance to forget now your birthplace a moment ago.
thin thin gravity round your head...
a little darkness in a pair of sunglasses
blinds the eye...... tints the bent hew.
indiscrepant frames pass and wander away
before the color can be deciphered.
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