You walk with a cigarette adorning the corner of your mouth
What about you inspires me?
Your dark glasses that taunt my intelligence
My ability to read you
staved off annoyingly like throwing a daisy at a brick wall.
Unlike me, you pick up your feet when you walk,
Refusing the ‘just rolled out of bed shuffle’
You walk with a purposeful air that challenges those who pass you
And dares them to gaze at those shades for eyes coupled with bronze hair that shags out from under your snug hat like a fuzzy carpet which needs cleaning.
Tendrils of smoke intertwine with said hair,
If you were still, they might create together a halo, an aura around your head and add to your not so holy mystery.
But you move on
Always moving
Slipping from the corner of my left eye and sauntering on
On to your profound purpose
Or perhaps one not so purposeful at all.
Maybe you are just strolling to meet another with dark eyes and faded jeans to enjoy a simple white cigarette
Which adorns you both so nicely.