Brightly colored, cellophane covered boxes 

Hold a “fix” and one less breath of being. 

Their contents are tidy. 

Hidden under a soft silver foil 

They lay fresh and new, virgin. 

An exotic beauty with coy eyes 

And ink black hair plays a siren song, 

Inviting you to hold her glass body to your lips. 

She is amber golden seas, 

And the rich spiced flavor Of unknown lands. 

A timeless pungent aroma 

Grabs subtly at the threads of reality, 

Slowly pulling them apart and reweaving them. 

A sharper image and warmth Emerge through the thick air left behind. 

These are small treats and vices, 

An ounce or breath of self reward, 

In a daze of expectations…


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s