at 10:25 pm on a Thursday night
my lips pucker
to kiss grape flavored rolling papers
because I want to be
the Lonely Smoker
and what does a Lonely Smoker do
at 10:25pm on a Thursday night?
alone
in a backyard
dead and crumpled leaves
a possum scurries past
the moon rises
out of clouds
as my puckered lips
open
with each new exhale
a mist descends
“tell me what you know about dreams?”
as the mist drapes around my wrists
warming my fingers
inviting me to rest on the trunk
of the neighboring tree
to serenade the moon with my song
“tell me what you know about night terrors”
when a missed text
becomes a missed call
a hand accompanied by a bottle of beer
as the neck
swims
to kiss your lips
the Lonely Smoker
kisses the grape flavored rolling papers
seducing senses
I sleep without warmth
the clouds part
the moon guides
me
seantcjwriting 