i was burning incense tonight and as i watched the smoke threading it's way across my face,
sewing my eyes shut and stringing me up by the temples,
i recalled a certain afternoon behind the library...
so many cigarettes,
so much smoke,
so many coils tying me to the post,
like caressing hands that grip you by the neck and softly suffocate you to sleep.
thusly, i wrote this.
I keep smoke in a jar
For nights just like this.
On a rainy day,
When I can’t light a fire with my malice,
And I can’t get a spark from my imagination,
I just open my jar
And there you are.
I can watch it drifting,
Just like it does out of your mouth.
I love how it looks falling over your lips.
The way that it drips
From the end of your cigarette.
It coils and curls out the mouth of my jar,
A silvery noose from a painted star,
I open the lid, and there you are.
It coils and curls from the mouth of a star:
A silvery rope for lip-locked tug-o-war;
The smoke that connects us no matter how far.
I open the lid,
And there you are.