a slow drag from it,
pausing to perfectly hold on
to the clear, marrless night air.
He felt it's familiarity
burning down into that place
where he kept all his reasons
why he never questioned
the tantalizing pain of the flame.
And then,
as though to mark his name
into our fears of the dark,
he released it all,
all that hot reverence
he had for the world
and it's confines.
How he relished
in the view
of the push towards
his own personal respect
going up in the smoke
of his savored self-indulgence.
And how he hoped
that someday pleasure would keep
from fleeting from sight,
and fading into the night.
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