The Aftermath

Cigarette smoke
Lingers like yesterday’s ghost
Forming shapes
Of beauty
Or grief
Ignored maybe.
The enchanting smell of nicotine
A mask of moon light
Midnight on their skin.

Drink!You’re young
Rays of headlights
From occasional cars
Reflect their eyes a glow
Trapped tears
And screaming souls
Laughter– a symphony
Escaping from
Filtering lips.
The aftermath
Coffee steam—
A blessed spirit
Embracing cold arms.
A celcius away from boiling point
Enemy of sensitive tongues.
Wake up!
”Stir well
For best taste”