Jonathan Seet - Smoke
She moves like warm molasses
Drips sweetness your chin is covered
Can’t get her taste out of your mouth
Nor do you want to
She moves like summer breezes
Across fields of nectar clover
She carries the heavy scent of
Gold pollen and milkweed
She leaves the room
The sound is like smoke rising
It curls around the nape of your neck
She leaves you like
An opium addicted schoolboy
Lost in foreign tongues
Wanting more
She feels like the ripest fruit held
Between trembling fingers precious
The rivers of melting butter
Stream down through the valley
She sounds like a siren calling
You in the ocean headfirst then
Her silence is broken glassware
Blown by the furies
She leaves the room
The sound is like smoke rising
It curls around the nape of your neck
She leaves you like
An opium addicted schoolboy
Lost in foreign tongues
Wanting more
Drips sweetness your chin is covered
Can’t get her taste out of your mouth
Nor do you want to
She moves like summer breezes
Across fields of nectar clover
She carries the heavy scent of
Gold pollen and milkweed
She leaves the room
The sound is like smoke rising
It curls around the nape of your neck
She leaves you like
An opium addicted schoolboy
Lost in foreign tongues
Wanting more
She feels like the ripest fruit held
Between trembling fingers precious
The rivers of melting butter
Stream down through the valley
She sounds like a siren calling
You in the ocean headfirst then
Her silence is broken glassware
Blown by the furies
She leaves the room
The sound is like smoke rising
It curls around the nape of your neck
She leaves you like
An opium addicted schoolboy
Lost in foreign tongues
Wanting more
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