man with the smoking pipe

lines soft yet rigid

marking the spot 

gently 

artistically

intense 

that's the essence 

he does not get out of my head

and when he on the purple light

and oh, when he uses the smoking pipe

I wish I could see you in front of me right now

I would not control myself

you are the wind that turns the fire into an incendiary

I wish I could be on your arms right now

we would be intertwined,

laughing and admiring one another and every little thing both does 

take me rough

I take you whole

in sights and sighs we melt like honey 

fade out into the space around like smoke