The stale stench of cannabis,
Settles deep into the fibres
Of my heavy coat
And already I miss the haze of dull beauty,
A mind that whispers instead of screaming
And that wonderful appetite that can never be extinguished.

And I sit at my desk
With dawn fast approaching.
She burns my tired eyes with demands of sleep,
But I will resist
And I will write
For no reason and with little aim,
Filing time before I can collapse into my sheets,
Or else hear the crackle of cigarette paper,
As resin laces my lungs.

Oh, I miss your paws more than ever now,
My wordless little friend.