I led the conga as the clock notched 4.
The gods and goddesses
and gods in between
rose for me, flew
like hummingbirds
flock around fountains as blue.
I could breakdance like madness
and everyone loved me.
In every column, another script.
On every portico, a face of reason.
I was why the world existed.
Dawn came. Women left.
The fruit around me gathered flies.
The icing on a dirty fork tasted sweet.
Because today would be the same.
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