Sunday, April 03, 2011

Thoughts

Whenever she smokes outside, she has a bad habit of leaving the door open wide as she sits on the steps and stares at the moon, and some of the smoke drifts inside as she sits there and smokes, and stares. The smoke has permeated whatever it touches , and smells the stale stench and it gives a flinty edge to the air, a hard gray matte finnish like her aura.It's sickly. A near-death aura.

2 comments:

Gustavo said...

Stop smoking. Enjoy the smell of the breeze at night.

Lady said...

yeah, I might do that someday...