Rolled in her skin, she lays surrounded
by the cloud of her smoked emotions,
ashes raining on the mattress,
fly away by a sigh...
There's a taste in the cigar filter,
tastes like a bitter pack of memories,
ones that refuse
to kiss the doormat and depart her soul.
She let loss her blinks, they run down
the mascara lines to embrace
the flickering lights coming from
her closed window.
But before the dawn hit the horizon,
her thoughts melted and got smoked
just before everything
fell asleep.
Pinned in a frame ...
I see her in me...
(C)Noor 10/12/2009
Bronze trophy winner
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