blue smoke flickers over a flourescent light,

cigarettes from the finest areas of the world,
have all found their toxicity to this obscure point.

as one string wraps it's arm around the
light, the moment freezes, as the
room exhales and wonders.

am i to be blessed with all of this?
as the blue smoke flickers over
the light, figures in the clouds
emerge.

the ashes of a phoenix,
the rebirth.

the fire.

03/30/2004

Posted on 03/30/2004
Copyright © 2024 Andrew S Adams