words whirl
and seem to swirl
into the smoke
that twirls above us

each sentence
lite enough to fly
and float into the sky
flowing out of our mouths

you could ask me tomorrow
what you had said today
and I could not repeat it back
but I  could tell you in a way

I could say
how you made me feel
and that the moments were too real
in a sense surreal

you sat there
puff after puff
some how peeling
at my bluff

revealing
a piece of me
i forgot could even be