standing lonesome in the smoke,
makes it easy to question whether or not,
something really is burning.
you hear the crack and pop of
glowing, starving embers.
you smell a sickly, syrupy sweetness,
that could only be melting wood and steel.
but you are in the midst of it,
so it never seems quite real.
until you've fallen to the ground,
inhaling stiff vapor and dry smoke,
pouring from lips.