Confidence is a preference for the habitual voyeur of what is known as…

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Morning. “Morning.” 
Shot of vodka, shot of gin, shot of brandy, dirty pint, toilet bowl, shot of brandy, shot of gin, 11am.
No ticket, no toilet, empty tram turned full tram, shout, laugh, piss out the window, ‘accident.’
Lipstick, shorts and sun tan lotion. Overcast sky. Rain. Clear bin bag and scissors? Art. 
My sunglasses were your sunglasses, camera, viewfinder glued, last ten pound note for two unrefrigerated Bulmers and a hug.
Wood chips, mud and cigarettes, flares, flower power, weed, 70’s, toilet queue, love, chemicals, brothers, wolves, alice, shoulders, spin, back to the ground and a dance, a dance, 11pm. 
Shakes, cold, sick on the Four Tet sign, hands, hair, teamwork. Smiles, brothers, sisters, friends and the Wizard of Oz walk home. 
Dirty legs, muddy sheets, pale skin paler still, an arm around a shoulder
your reassurance, your hush 
valium.
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