harm and love, she is:
two dark lapis eyes, hidden in a mist,
blinking as she blows a kiss
and exhales pools of weed, burnt and swirling.
then she laughs until she’s out of breath, and
with an American accent, she shouts i fucking love it
her skin stretches away from its natural place,
reaching again for another, a poorly rolled brown paper.
she breathes, gazes at the neon screen, then me,
biting her blackened lips, trying—maybe—to look sexy.
i go for it.
as I draw in that smoke from her mouth,
she stops breathing—letting go of
her soft, brown body into the air.
her arms suspended, as I grab her pretty face,
gulping and soaking in the sweet acrid smoke
intoxicated with voices of
songs, screams, conversations
and confessions.
and, after molesting my pink soft alveoli
the smoke dissolves, and I stop, and
open my eyes, to a drunk smile.
her voice slurred with intoxication,
she murmurs, did you really just kiss me?