Smoke

A blind light crashes through bar windows. Since they began to talk her breasts had moved to a small apartment in his head. The smoke from her cigarette shaped words into sensuous motes. He imagines her lungs. They are green-leaf not black. Inside the bronchi and alveolar sylph's teasingly beckon out of a spongy foliage. Votive clouds lather red lips. Words flare dark clefts of desire. Throats assume vapory feelers inside a filtering breath. He needs her addictively, a blood craving that seeks her as an inhalation. There’s a strung-out intimacy between them. Eye’s smother, and blur as they absorb each other. Soon they will meet upon an in-between world where each visual breath forms fumy erotic dreams. A midday daze smolders as they sightlessly light another.