Morsel of intelligence.
Mixed with  not
forgetting stuff
And Jesting that you've
never smoked
a
cigarette

Inhale.

Keeper of items known
no more.
He says,
cough,
Oh Lord.
Make the past come
to life
like the starting
of the underscore.

She's not like me,
more than fish are lures.
But he's all
I see
when I can hope no more.

Exhale, poor soul.