Maybe, Afterall

This space
Is Full of
The smoke

Released
From your

Putting out
Our fire.

—-

When you
Stare at
A flame
Long Enough,

it’s Imprint

Sticks in
Your mind.

—-

How silly
Of me to
Mistake that

For the
Real thing.

—-

Sometimes
These grays
Swirl so
Beautifully,

As if alive,

But the
Foulness
Of the air

Here Should
Have given
It all away.

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