The smoke curls towards the sky.
At a different point in time our bodies curled together.
But, that was, indeed, a different point in time.
And trembling on  the remembrance of the past is silly.

As I was saying, before the past rushed in like a wave,
A wave that crashes over the sea barriers,
and sweeps away the fleeing tourists,
that the smoke curls towards the sky.

It slowly diffuses into the foggy, white air.
Diffuses isn't the correct word though.
We are not talking about liquids moving from
an are of high concentration to one of low concentration.

As I was saying, before scientific vocabulary interrupted me
just as the attacks on towers interrupted to 2001
Major League Baseball Season, the smoke slowly crept
up into the sky, into the wet November air.

As it combines itself with the fog, just as we
combined our hearts through our hands in the hot July
dog days. Although the dog days really weren't
as bad as they have been in previous years.

Anyway, as I was saying, before remembrance of old loves
snuck into my mind, much as the thought of you does
in History, while I'm trying to learn about the French invasion
of Russia. Or the **** (Or the Roman) invasion of Russia.

Oh, **** it. This is pointless.
I'll never get anywhere with this ******* smoke
curling to the ******* sky.
So, **** it. I'll just watch the smoke curl
and be content.