title

liz taylor, cat on a hot tin roof

it's not that tight
not really
i can move quite freely

not able to decide
turning
the mirror beckons
deciding to speak
the mirrow commits

come close
let me glimpse
and see your thoughts

within the seams
suggestions of power
and freedom
ignite
my skin gladly absorbs
the heat and fire

the night comes
quickly
when everything
matters
and there's nothing to be
done

noting i do not smoke
making a move
taking a step
open the window
and blow out the smoke

so subtle
so encompassing
so little a matter