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
Copyright © Nathaniel Köhp | Year Posted 2009
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