Smokey Whispers on a star-filled fall night,
reminding me of weekends on the shore and the smell of sun on our skin.
Smokey whispers with the deep red hues of italian wine
(you drank it from the glass and I tasted it on your lips).
Smokey whispers in my ear, as your hands found that spot that you loved to touch
Like the smoke once lifting from your lips, your smokey whispers
are frozen in the stillness of cold dark memories.
Smokey whispers from the past haunt me and sit alongside
the ghosts that came before you.
And now no cigarettes burn but the smoke fills my eyes
and their smoke can’t be washed from my fingertips.
