Your words trickle smoothly
through the emptiness
of a 2 o'clock evening.
I savor each word;
a drop of honey,
smooth jazz.
Neither as sweet
or soothingly cool
as you.

A craving.
Another cigarette
held gingerly between
*******,
two lips.
You dance like smoke.
Mystery.  

An aura of beauty
cascades around your entire being.
Your hair falls as refreshingly as rain,
and your eyes are soft blankets that
I can feel my soul curl up with.

Your presence is bewildering.


Another hopeless romance.