Grey curl of smoke leaves my mouth,
Ashes scrape my throat.
I won´t play it wrong-
Trying to appear strong.

There´s no fire-
Just  the path to end this.
Gladly, I´d be your player,
Between us, fire burns.

Smoke would hiss.
It started-
With lit cigarette.

Your lust like fire. Flames,
at my soul rip. Smoke, like love
through my fingers slip.

The cigarette burns, I watch it fade,
Like the smoke that loops, like the love we made.
Infinity twists in the cold night air,
Mocking the "forever" that led me here.

She’s gone, but I still wear her ghost,
Clinging in nicotine, stitched in my sleeves.
The scent of goodbye lingers the most—
Smoke stains stay, but she had to leave.

I have been a raging fire.
I have been an overflowing cup,
Overflowing with guilt;
I wash it down the sink.
I have been too much for everyone:
Too bold,
Too shy,
Too lustful,
Too innocent.
I poured a bucket of ice on my head
To simmer me down a little bit,
And now that I am freezing,
And I cannot feel the fire no more,
I have met you, the blaze.
And your warmth was burning off my skin,
And it was melting my face off,
And it was too much.
Far too much.
You have given me light and burning warmth,
But I cannot handle the smoke.
I now know how he felt.
I am choking,
So I have left.
I will be too little and too much on my own.
I do not need a spark to jolt me.

I never told you
I don’t like the cigarette smoke
But bitter kisses taste better than ghosts

There once was a man from Kilkenny
Who purchased a pipe for a penny,
     Then filled it with wacky
     And woolly tobacky,
And smoked himself dumb at four:twenny.

over snow fields
chimney smoke versus clouds
                         racing shadows

I sit, heart still, not beating,
A lone soul amongst my own memories,
Which plaster the walls, a putrid stain.
Through the fog of night,
I hear her cries, silent tears of crystal,
Falling to the padded floors, shattering.
Through the crackle of the fire,
I hear her laughter,
A once pretty sound, gone sharp and raw.
Staring aimlessly into my own palms,
Her voice haunts me, has haunted for so long,
So I reach but a single hand to the fire.
Watching the tongues of the flame,
Lick my open flesh,
I smile when the searing begins.
Then fall from my chair,
Crawling to their sound, their loud cackle driving her memory away.
From the flames I rob a charcoaled log,
That which I toss, and another,
Though when the smoke and flame surrounds I know,
I must've been missed when they came to lock her up.

Smoke across knuckles
You are my private delight
I will breathe you deep