The Smoke Poem by Sofia Lyne

A flurry of lonley smoke cascades from supple lips before running away in the melanchony febuary breeze.

If this smoke was a person, would i whisper sweet nothings in her ear with a voice as sickeningly degrading as honey before devouring her?

Its a shame nobody will love me as well as; with such yearning as her- smoke.

She sits in my empty bed at night, whilst i caress her edges like she's my personal porn star.

As i breathe in the scent of her mercy, i carry the smell of a lonley, desperate, middle aged man.

I carry the reek of despair like a bad omen - my Poetry dosent rhyme & i don't count sex as a Taboo; my cigarette and I understand only.