I love how you walk
especially when you come my way
Actually it’s better when you’re going
because you were here to begin with
The dirty projector screen is your eyes
your thoughts may have something to do with
That smell of smoke is
all yours and my lungs can’t steal enough
I fell for your hands
and for the way they could tell stories
And for what those stories were all about
All those past lives and past loves carried
on the waves of words
incessantly rolling off your tongue
A ghost-inhaled smoke ring stains your teeth grey
and you never told me your real name