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I love the taste, the smell, the feel. I love to watch the paper peel- In fear it runs from the threatening fire, fast approaching. I love the taste, The way it tingles. I love the coolness, icicle prickle. I love the smell, Only those who've tasted the air know the smell- Miss the smell of the calming rush. I love the feel, The lightness between my fingers, My head full, so relaxed, so heavy-it lays back. Only those who have will know, The way the smoke makes your sense flow. All together, all with one breath, All to take in until the last is left. Nicotine is the least to fear- Your dulling senses...will wish the cigarette near.
0
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 11:35 PM UTC
Senses
I love the taste, the smell, the feel. I love to watch the paper peel- In fear it runs from the threatening fire, fast approaching. I love the taste, The way it tingles. I love the coolness, icicle prickle. I love the smell, Only those who've tasted the air know the smell- Miss the smell of the calming rush. I love the feel, The lightness between my fingers, My head full, so relaxed, so heavy-it lays back. Only those who have will know, The way the smoke makes your sense flow. All together, all with one breath, All to take in until the last is left. Nicotine is the least to fear- Your dulling senses...will wish the cigarette near.
wesley-teel
Written by
American
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 11:35 PM UTC
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