Tuesday, February 2, 2021

Justice is dead

Months have passed
since smoke has entered my room
from someone's nightly cigarette binge
some storeys below mine.
I breathe it all in my sleep,
and I wake to the smell
of cheap tobacco in my hair.
The anonymous criminal
and a voiceless victim,
the perfect crime.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Featured Post

Conception Dream

I have written about stars often, with love and longing, with wonder, enchantment, and he lives with me now, My North Star, my anchor, my gu...

Popular