The night's games have begun.
Drapes were drawn guests were stunned
The tight room filled with impulsive men and beautiful women.
The swagger of the trembling thirsty braggarts flew in.
Chaos, the fear of missing out, fleeting attractions
Mixed with inebriation from powder cut in fractions
Over sweetened words, exaggerated reactions.
A panel of gossipers to shame and to track sins.
Bouts of laughter that seemed would kill the laugher.
Games of every type but mostly illusions.
From harmless to ones that leave contusions.
But all were just excuses purely ruses.
Streetlights guiding the wanters in to feel less dead.
they were pythons wearing lamps on their heads.
Addictions were organized and satisfied to ease spicy glowers
So that quips and jokes could improve for about half an hour.
Eyes scanned the room looking for sympathy, yet scorn we are.
Each being self absorbed on the edge of their fragile euphorias.
None had an inkling of real love for the next. each a bubble.
Games went on with winners pretending they were humble.
Losers pretending they hadn't lost, exit, mumble, now waiting with a gun.
Vices and the intense visceral drive to fulfill took them over one by one.
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