The Ghost of Tobacco (a poem)
Category: Writing and Poetry
The Ghost of Tobocco on my lips— from the vogue Bleue I had for my dinner. Eyes heavy, hooded, glazed with a distant stare— my mind flooded. A love marred by the absence of absolution. Us, a tangled mess of Churchyard lovers; skin-to-skin. Muttered prayers, hoping God wasn’t home that day, to witness the pleasure we found in sin. » Continue Reading