Inhale the smoke,
sweet and white,
these dreams faded and pale
in the morning sun.
Clean and gentle breath
tastes of oak,
rough delight,
whispered in detail
those soft lips undone.

Exhale the smoke,
black and acrid,
my decomposed lungs
releasing pressure.
Heavy with salt and
thick like yolk,
opened my mouth and slid
these bitter words off dry tongues,
held in cracked clay to measure.