SMOKE

 

What did I say, what did it mean, ribbons of ink — luxe spawning — how did it work, did it work, what did he think — shield me — what did I want, what do I want, flicked it off — flux you — cradled his head in the ebb of a smooth piano run — what was the mood — sleep — an inversion of talk — grinding away at the air — chambered glances or no glances stalled in the half-light — who did it favor, who did it shatter — walled up in his hoodie and jeans — the skimpy blankets, the skimpy tissue of night, waking and waking, how many times in the no-light, the one more night, the one night…