Saturday, December 31, 2011

nicotine love

It pains me to see how my life
Passes by
Burned to ashes
Slowly by threads and dried leaves
As the lips of a man
Suck my bottom
To take a breath
And puff a smoke to relax
His tensed fingers.

I nearly reached half
When comes a man in Ivy League
Enduring a spectacle
To the left
Took out a menthol.

Without word,
Without notice
A deep inhale—
Three seconds to four
The menthol touched my cinder,
my lip of wanton desire.

His lips of patience drought
As I pass fire
Into his lifeless roll
Happy to be consumed
And to share a love divine.

And as I burn I see him
Release the shards of mint
To the visitor's lip
Turning to ashes
As I too turn without vain.

Down the corner
We burn
From our masters' hand
Who said nothing but smiles
From their eyes emanating
Like our flicker burning.

For love like mine
Is worth the wait.
Without question nor force
Despite the long delay
And the heaves and ho's
In perfect time
In a hopeless place.

Note: I don't smoke. I just find the metaphor fitting.

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