The Wanders

I heard the gypsies talking

through your twirl tips

in the hair brown woods

from the wind

we passed through a tunnel

it was 2am

and you rocked your head back

and forth

 

side to side

 

to music

that blew canyons down

my bones

 

We were a pickup drive

away

and I wanted you to pick

me up

to dance

but instead

you smoked a cigarette

 

So I watched you

close my eyes

with words

that opened hands

to the feeling of

smoke

entering

like a wandered  ghost

a gypsy toke-

awkwardly

sidestepping

the drag

 

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