In response to the a to z challenge
A flick of my thumb, and brightness flashes,
My lighter a fuel-filled storm
Sheltered from the wind that blows into my soul
Crouched on a corner, my head bent over
A roll of paper dangling between my lips
Stuffed with fantasy, that will soon turn to smoke.
My thumb depressed, the flame burning,
A steady surprise that illumines the dark balcony,
A beacon, a message,
Bridges connecting my soul to the next.
A breath, drawn in, watching the paper light
Embers glowing at the edge of white,
Fragile, holding promises, in the tiny roll of processed leaves.
First breath, smoke rolling into my mouth, Waves;
I have opened my mouth before an ocean.
The flood stays, the flames tug back, yearning to reach me.
A relaxed finger, the lighter goes out,
I am inhaling another soul into me.
Muscles move, coordination, iron will holding together a fragile temperament,
My knees wobble slightly, golden liquids drunk in comfortable silences.
Exhale, then inhale again,
But this time, let the soul in deeper
Feeling the fingers crawl into your lungs,
Slip inside, buoyant, rising upwards
They rush out my nostrils, an army leaving the battle-scene.
The spirit is silent, searching in the night air,
Watching wisps of smoke float away, to find other secrets.
The fire has crawled over the paper, a hair away from my fingertips,
My soul curls up with the wind,
It’s time to sleep.