---

Conversations are struck
up from a plastic match.
‘Can I borrow your lighter, please?’
‘Course you can.’
The lit beam of a face.
Caused with relative ease.

Unspoken bonds
emerge through smoke
without mirror.
Strangers abscond
on lips flamed cigarette toke
by familiarity’s trigger.

The nub of contempt
fades with every drag.
In shadows created
by the warmth of a lighter.
Tobacco bedraggled, unkempt
formed into a fag
for mouths unsated
are the fuel for magical bonds
from inhaled congenial wands.
That when cast shan’t ever burn brighter.

© poormansdreams

---

---