i reached longingly for the playful midnight breeze
balmy and childish, accenting the giggle of the brook laughing in the still
night air
crickets chirruping sang in this disjointed reverie
and as i smiled the air whistled through my teeth, speaking through me
this oxygen was pure opium, whisking through my veins
blue highways under alabaster skin, pumping life stuffs
gooey and real, cell ridden, blue to red when confronted with tree branches
it caused waking dreams, and dreaming wakes
a huff, a sigh, a glance sideways
to the boy with the mushroom cloud hair
sipping cheap chardonnay quietly, contemplating the stars
brightly burning cigarette rested lazily in his right hand
answering the brilliantly twinkling tapestry of sky

i watched in a drugged daze, enthralled, heavy eyed
(or was it the late hour, and not the summer air?)
as that twining, ancient, brilliant hand lifted mortality to his robust,
pouting lips
and the smoke filled his lungs, absorbing in tissue, becoming part of his
very molecular makeup
if even for a moment, i wished to be that smoke
my hand reached for the chardonnay
fluttering little appendage, so tiny and delicate, a hummingbird to his
hawk
his eyes winked silently at me, catching the spark of his cigarette, the
blazing of the stars
i inhaled, the smoke hissing through my nostrils
chewing upon my lip, i grasped the neck of the bottle
phallic and erotic, intimate and tangible
peering desperately towards his self through mascara coated eyelashes, i
drank
i drank noisily, in deep gulps, but he did not stir, contemplating his
somethings and his nothings, gazing contentedly skyward

cheap wine settled in my belly
the bottle set next to me with a clink
tootsies towards the sky, lip gnawing, thoughts reaching towards his
can you tell me what you're thinking?
but a question that never made it to quivering lips
merely the thought wave hanging, sparkling in the darkness

creatures of the night, us two, perched quietly upon creaky lawn chairs
lights off, eluding prying eyes and unreasonable questions of those that
birthed i
we reside in this state in silence, twitching souls speaking quietly in the
sounds of silence
at the dark end of the street, hiding in the alley from humanity
or was it just the front porch, with cricket song and smoke swirls?
one can never be sure of one's whereabouts in these sorts of situations
with intoxicating air
and presence of kindred
the smoke infiltrating his lungs
whispered in mine
hissed sweet nothings, and sang grown up lullabies
it sank into my skin
it fluttered under my closed eyelids
it sprung from my fingertips, a manifestation of my soul

on my porch, i took a drag of his cigarette
unable to look at the one offering it
for fear of goodbyes and don't cries
of blatant words left unspoken shown in swirling late night eyes reflecting
the cosmos
my petty human shell trembled and shook in rejection
i desperately attempted to cover my coughs with my hummingbird hands
he laughed softly, a sound lost to the melting stars
but not lost to my insides, and i found my teeth
and they beamed, bright and straight into his very soul
returning the gesture with twinkling faces, he passed me the wine

on my porch, i left my body
and i became smoke
his smoke
and i sunk into his lungs
 
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