unthinkingly parting

the colored skin,

same as her nipples,

still bordered with drugs-

tore twelve hour gloss

the small circle collecting tobacco

on the bottom: 

006 pin up red


dragon puffing last

night’s smoke

menthol flew away

with her dreams of pine

the throaty stench

of dry

tongue screeches on her buds



physical form to taste upon entry

—down right normal

corporeal contact with taste

on this morning—can he


tighten the grip