french cigarettes

the ashes were for brick steps and seasonal halloween pumpkins, carved out for this time of year. burnt nubs, touched filters, woman, you're voice is meditative for dark nights like these, even if you say you can't sit still. and time heals all wounds is the expression we have in english. six months from now, we will laugh, you're right. grateful smiles and golden commiseration for now. they say expanding consciousness is found at the top of the inhale, bottom of the exhale, and our smoke gives it a little dirt to reflect the muddled feelings and splendid imperfections life offers. but it's night and the sky is black and the stars, moon, are still visible in beverly hills and the emptiness between everything fills me up with hope outside my car, for only now is as beautiful as ever.