it smokes the toxins, trying to bring on disease
inhaling and exhaling clouds; stories of a lone secret
carried on the wind of a sea's salted breeze
by noon it raises its head, scalding the pavement
staring in one spot until fires are begged to breathe
it drinks every last drop of water, full of germ enslavement;
every last gulp of the seven seas, until the earth starts to seethe
in the evening with a carton of cigarette-butts darkening the sky
a cough errupts from the corruption of deadly disease; lightening
it echoes in thunder as the seven seas threatens a violent goodbye
and just as the nostalgia becomes unbearable, tears start falling
a storm of lonely heartache hangs in the air like water-color paint
as the sun hides within a billow of smoked clouds, bitterly ashamed
for what a terrible enigmatical sorrow to bear, its not for the faint
for as the sun is forced to sleep--in the night--the moon, its lover, is named