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Smokey Kisses...

the pipe smoke slowly rises from my muttering lips we can't look through the tangling ribbon's white eclipse on a journey including only the mind, now you are all alone the smoke's still strolling in the air like a kiss that's just been blown

Copyright © | Year Posted 2009




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Date: 7/18/2009 6:51:00 AM
My uncle used to smoke a pipe. As a child I used to be facinated by it. The smell although probably not politically correct is full of precious memories. Your words, tangling ribbons are so descriptive and easy. That may make sense only in my mind but your poem takes me to good places
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things