vapor on vapor moorings
your lips end when the smoke fades
brunette ashes on black tile floorings

(lit from above)
mascara tear ducts' lathe
eat a blown glass dove
with halos of smoke rings
the angels resurrect then bury
stock and store
nicotine for the winter
2 moths between doors
and 7 leaves of cherry


you
lift the latch
and slip inside
knowing
no one has heard you
but me
turn out the light
and
be my pure fire