Lighting
The sweet smell of a cigarette.
The smoke turns
To a haze,
While candles flicker their conversations.
A guitar flirts with the roving shadows,
Drawn out,
Like a painting
Into the Starry Starry Night.
Faces change with each pour of coffee,
Leisurely being sucked away
Drop
By
Drop.
Idle chit chat meanders out the door
Unfurling.
Like the last few puffs
Of that cigarette.
Cracked leather,
Brimming with the painters of the night
Fade back again,
To a blank canvas.
One last drag,
Of that smoke-filled addiction,
Leaves the last few hours of night
In search
Of another match.
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