Smoke – Philip Levine
Can you imagine the air filled with smoke?
A hundred dim cigarettes reeking in
Glass bowls on every table.
Silver whisps, almost palpable,
always just out of reach.
Watch as they dance between
Your fingers, taunting you to
Grab them. Reach for the white
Tails of vapor in the dank bar.
Just like happiness, always slipping
Through your fingers.
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