A poem by Daniel Sluman, providing a crepuscular vignette of a time spent on drugs. Illustrated by Devin McGrath.

We’re floored like snow angels on the carpet;
I show you how to roll a cigarette –
the delicate origami of tongues and fingers
reflected in the glitter-heaped mirror.

Lilly has met you in her dreams before –
paranoia or white witch, she has seen
your eyes fizz like coke in a clean glass –
your shower fun smile on display
and legs apart like your profile pic –

an invitation
to hold that slippery bundle of thighs
and slide a hand to the headboard.

A razor-fine line rushes
through arteries to the air eating heart;
a thousand drops of water burst onto skin –
flutter tattoos of light from the pores –
shadows flinging themselves on the wall.

In the dark the red of our roll-ups
swing from lips like fireflies –
she would hurl at the sight of our hands
whilst our feet stuck to the floor of the bar –
how I flicked line after heavy line your way.

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