Smoke Signals

In wider times,
Between sober lines,
Never say those words.
Walk on by,
Subconscious dry,
To keep from spilling verbs.
Eyes fully dim,
And slow to spin,
No zeal inside the throat.
All angles squared,
Composure shared,
No ardent thoughts provoked.
But in other ways and days,
Times and kinds,
Breathing in clover fields;
With liquid hope,
Lifting moxie boats,
Of roguishly engaging grins.
You find it hard,
Not to play the part,
Of a coquetting kid.
You find it hard,
Not to seep the heart,
Bursting air tight lids.
So pour the wine,
And light the stick,
Drink and pull it down.
Fill the vessel,
Empty the fear,
Gravity equals ground.
Meeting eyes,
Pounding blood,
Burning coursing veins.
Dripping hints,
With floral scents,
Let you know they feel the same.
Blurry facts,
Paying luxury tax,
Forget the cost of sin.
Rushing air,
Around swirling hair,
And relish the skin they’re in.