Cigarette

I'm smoking while I can
while it's still legal
although it's getting harder.
Cafe Roma doesn't permit smoking.
Daydreaming barista serves tall
when I order short,
smug & self-satisfied smirk
below ratty red locks.
I'm angry at the smallest prvocation.
It is cool to smoke.
Smoke is magical. It scares people.
Putting fire to my lips
godlike
I exhale golden smoke
forming green and purple spirals
rotating slowly to the finest guitar
snaking though the air -- my air, yours
daring us to dance half as enticingly
until slowly evaporating,
becoming one, dying the death of dissipation,
colorlessness, loss of focus.
It's ok, I've got more.