Duende

[miyako73]

I see you restless and festive
In the wet corners of my eyelids
Depriving the thirst of my eyes;
In the moist of my breathing,
Rapid and begging for the air
You turn into gushes and gasps;
In my sweating neck and nape
Warmed by the sun-blanketed sky
You free from the longest dawn;
In the discharges of my wounds
Desiccating into fetid crystals
As salty as the vomit of the sea;
In the willful spurts of my blood
Anemic and stubborn to pressing,
To rag bandages, my old shirts.

I see you in the menthol rings
Of the smoke sculpted by my lips
And tongue that knows geometry;
In the glass chipped and half-filled
With leftovers: filters and wrappers,
And the grey dust of the dead fire;
In the rolled tobacco I endlessly burn
To fill my lungs with the deathly rage
That murders Spring and a young aunt;
In the mulish flame of my Bic lighter
I cannot force to dance or be cold
To my stilly thumb and careless chin;
In the weightless box of green Marlboros
Surprising me with the emptiness I see
And despair whose meaning you know.

[ShadowsCool]

I can relate since I smoke. And you related the habit pretty well.

[Twota]

I am not a smoker, but I really like it. :D

specially..

"To fill my lungs with the deathly rage
That murders Spring and a young aunt"

:D

[Delta40]

You're such a sensual writer Miyako.

In the moist of my breathing,
Rapid and begging for the air
You turn into gushes and gasps;
In my sweating neck and nape


I see you in the menthol rings
Of the smoke sculpted by my lips
And tongue that knows geometry;