The Smoke

In the dark the smoke sees with eyes divine like an incense a burnt offering it rises with the wind and the smoker marvels He wakes, eats, sleeps and longs to inhale the sweet breath a nectar bud this sanity and mirth inroad into sad melancholy He loves to see the smoke twirl with the wind serene in the sky like a god climbing coming coming out to proffer another life another fire Stop, stop, stop he laughs are they talking to him? the advertisement talks too and his little daughter avoids him everytime he is covered up when will they appreciate that his favourite brand like a painkiller is the secret escape from the aches and discomfort only he can explain Now his wife has left and the doctor says his lung is darkening his breath is stained his blood burns black lung cancer or ulcer? But can it be real if his palate seek a fresh taste of the stick? And now his eyes are sinking sockets now the skin starts to fall away some acute disease? What`s the use of worrying the better for him to dedicate his whole life to cigarette smoke till there is no more breath no more life in his bones no more sweet incense to inhale