...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kwrYDTHKxiE&ab_channel=LabrinthVEVO

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(author's note: it snowed.)

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I

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He drew on the cigarette, blinked,

Let his eyelashes bat

Into the wispy curls, folded 

Across his clothesline - with

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The prompt and immediacy 

Of beating into wet laundry.

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II

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He let the coiling blue, nicotine trails

And carcinogen exhumation, lap

Into the feathered tuck 

Intonations of his mustache, so as that when 

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He inhaled - French kissing 

With the filter -

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Frost would form 

Along his lips, exhaling into

Crystal, snowflakes, where there ought

Only to've been 

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The condensation

Of a condescending 

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Cigarette’s

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Soul soothing, 

And inundated 

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Drip.

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