Sep 2017

Down my spine and up my fingers,
Wet tobacco sweats and lingers.
Small infernos in my chest,
Stoking fire with every breath.
Both fickle days and longing nights,
Butane flame my iris lights.

Post-midnight smoke.
nothing's Amiss
Written by
nothing's Amiss  Philly 'burbs
(Philly 'burbs)   
  144
     Ciel De Verre, Jack and Emeka Mokeme
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