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The bottle sucked me in,
turned my world outside in.

I was stretched into a ghost
as I slid like rubber through the aperture,
lengthening in rhythm with the slender neck.
And then I swam around the belly of the bottle,
like a sailor getting drunk on opportunity.

Strange, you might think, that being inside a bottle
felt so good,
but if you could see the crazy colours of your world
magnified through glass, you would understand,
you would not want to go back
to the claustrophobia of intangibles.

When the bottle sucked me in,
I held my breath just long enough to let it slip away.
Now I’m free, I marvel at the comedy divine
orbiting around me like a carousel.
Though standing still, I’m waiting for Aladdin’s touch,

waiting to make merry on some dreamer’s lips…