Charles Malcolm

Red Apple (Cigarette #1) - Poem by Charles Malcolm

Suffocation, technically,
but I inhale that sweetest air
through her black cotton panties
and these white cotton filters
that I
pull aside
from time to time.

Let it breathe, baby.
The only reason left
to live.

Grey trumpets play long and low
about patience and pussy
and I smile
behind a curtain of smoke,
with all of the time in the world.

Topic(s) of this poem: smoking

Comments about Red Apple (Cigarette #1) by Charles Malcolm

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, November 10, 2015

Poem Edited: Tuesday, November 10, 2015

[Report Error]