Nicotine

Like an ester, she clings Silver-tongued yet soaked in Sepia. A perfume of precarious Yellows and ambers in hues and Dazes of a light and melodious Brown. Mustard gas pigments Filtering onto impure hands Vapour smog; rampant in clots Flooding into hair, hands, the leather Of skin; into an eternity. Ash collecting like a snow flood Of monochromes and greys Fading partially to blanks and Dances of dirty blonde, promiscuous Addiction; timeless Bright Young Thing The very nature of an elixir All our addictions catch us in the end The curtain call rupturing on Barbed wire hands and claws A hunters' snare; beautiful for only a moment Catching eternal, ethereal glassy air