She was the smoke that arose from the tip of my cigarette,
Covering me with her essence.
Insisting that I wrap my lips around her.
I held her tight,
Staining my fingers with her.
Not once did she have to prove what was seen as clear she as could have indicated.
That she was mine just as much as I was hers.
A film of smoke dancing between us both,
I knew the damage that she caused internally.
Eternally. None of that mattered as our communication was silent.
Knowing what we both sought in each other.
Replacing my need with her very embrace.
Not once was it hard to breathe. Staining my lips with desire.
Thumping the layers of where we stood off into the wind.
Enticing me with the bright spark that set her ablaze.
The thrill of her knowing that I craved her.
Undressing her with my eyes.
Granting me the clarification of a moments peace.
I wrapped my lips around her,
Blowing her back out as the smoke that filled my lungs.
A lukewarm kiss, her lips pressed against mine.
We accepted each other as we were.
Standing in solace.
We no longer belonged to ourselves but each other