Take a drag of life,  
it cleanses.  
Peaceful, nutty and tasteful,  
we are all dying.  

Death kisses our necks daily  
but life rapes us all.  
A sweet embrace of  
smokey taste-  
the clouds are my god.  
I **** myself every day  
just to see if tomorrow  
I will awake again.  
Crackling in my hand-  
when did this begin?  
Birth?  

Like leaves  
we all crumble.  
I am the universe's compost,  
golden sunlight, toes, fingers, tongue  
and all.  
Exquisitely dark we all expound  
to minerals and dust and singed fingertips.