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like swan lake

last one

lit and burnt

slowly

savory

and the whole time

I think about you

 

and the very first time

I admired you

from across the yard

while I hung upside down

and the smoke sauntered from your lips

as brilliant as

a ballerina perfectly executing

all of Swan Lake

in fifteen seconds

 

and so mine comes to an end

while the smoke dances clumsily from my lips

the geese waddle from land to pond

and I wonder what it is

that’s got you so entranced in me.

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Written by
margaret-bailey-turner
American
Published
Oct 5, 2011
Lines·Words
20·88
Permission

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