The spark of the lighter,
a noise forever ingrained in my mind
and dear to my heart.
It warms my fingertip as it will soon warm my lungs.
I bring the flame up to decorated glass.
Swirls of pink and blue,
sparkling under the dim light.
They look as if they are tangable,
like I could reach in and pick them up
and feel the softness of the colors in my hands.
Cradling the intricate designs,
as the designs cradle the green that brings ease to my mind.

I inhale.
Burning from green to black before my eyes.
Heat in my throat.
Burning so good,
hitting deep in my chest
and everything that has run wild
finally falls into place.
I exhale.

We rest on porches,
stay wraped in the protection of backseats,
or let the manicured grass hold us as we stare up into the unknown.
We are facinated by the unknown,
That of the world and ourselvs.
We explore through a window newley opened,
savoring every second of the breeze that we have discovered.