bethgrace

Cinnamon Smoke

A stable build fabricated 
from ideas of untruths.
A trace of cinnamon and smoke
although small, tremendously
intoxicating,
a drink of controlling spirit.

I could leave to the insecurity of
 a world so up in flames,
however I stay in the clutch of your smoke.
In your scent.

You are forever, so rare.
Life has a funny way of living, and
your haziness makes it clear
the danger. This is momentary.

However you are a structure of steadiness
even when you leave.
Your hold takes me too, and I
departed.
Contained within your smoke and cinnamon.