Smoke & Mirrors

i live mostly in my mind
where there are endless strings
of ten minutes poems
about sexual positions and
getting high next to
warehouse graffiti
and it’s safe there
because out here there is nothing but
the confining strangle
of this floral blouse and
the way the buttons bruise my belly
and my fingers shake a bit
while i smoke
and try to hold out
with water and summer squash
alone
in there it’s safe because
in there i can touch the razor-sharp
of hips
and the blood filled plump
of painted lips lined with shimmer
that comes straight from the moon
so i live mostly
inside my mind
where you are
with a bottle of something sweet
and the willingness to kiss me
even if you know that i am only
smoke
and the avoidance of mirrors