If I could use your body the way I smoke cigarettes,
I would inhale your scent, the taste of you fresh on my lips.
Such bitter sweet savory.
Mind numbing intoxication.
Vast minutes of nothingness pass.
The hands of a clock stuck on midnight.
A pillow of ashes in my palm.
Softly blowing them into the night like fairy dust.
Along with your memory.
Making deadly magic in the moonlight.
Addiction is the sweetest mortal sin.
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Written in the heat of summer, while porch sitting.