Leaves black
brown cured
with rum
whiskey vanilla,
crushed.
Pinched between
thumb, forefinger.
Shove into
wooden bowl
pack tightly.
Inhale,
watch
as they take fire.
Inhale sweet
danger
into mouth.
Exhale.
Nerves calm.
Inhale.
Clear head.
Taste lingers,
slightly bitter
mostly sweet,
hinted death.
Smell.
Live.
Lie back.
Exhale.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem