9 July 2010
You danced on the tip of my cigarettes
as I long for you to caress my lips.
You touch the air that I breathe
and your scent’s what I wanna keep.
Soon you’ll be like smoke in the air,
thin and soft that I love to stare.
Tiny dancer that sways without care
but is still sweet though causes tear.
Bend the light my lady cotton white.
Brush my lips while you ride the light.
I will surely long for you after tonight
because you will be ashes with all despite.
Again you dance on my fingertips
before it’s all gone, my sweet cigarettes.
I will light again against your lips.
Again… against your lips that is sweet. end
Original image appears in link.