Stolen thoughts...

I wandered into my room last night and found these. I asked and was told I could do what I wanted with them...

Nicotine Spins
~Gigi

My dry lips stick to the paper
as I savor the fumes and heat
of my cigarette
I take off my shoes as the warmth
stretches past my toes
and the world around me
moves in nicotine spins
I see a dog rolling in the cool grass
and my bare feet covet the sensation
But my perfectly practical skirt
refuses to surrender to childlike impulses
So I sit, confined to my cigarette
And think of you
The smell of smoke
and the embers of a weak flame
mark the times we had
and the awkward moments we now possess
If I could love you
the way I want to
my feet would not move
in anticipation
ready to travel the great distances
it would have to take to touch your heart
I desire to frantically revive the dying and the dead,
the intense fragility
that fills the space between
my life and yours
and the last breaths of strange incense
but the weary organ that lives in this cage of flesh
beats against my compulsion
and stays my trembling hand.

~ ~ ~

(this one did not have a title...)
~Gigi

Perhaps it was the gin
and whiskey, when
in the first lighting of cold stars
I tugged impatiently
at your sleeve
pick me instead?
The tears flowed free
just like the liquor
and your hands touched my cheek
wiped away my tiny rivers
and cleaned new glasses with your dirty shirt
Maybe it was the moonlight
that caused your lips to taste
like the sweet savor of spring
to the tiniest of flowers
and the dark quiet of night
that transformed my plain face
into something of beauty to you
but just
as your love is a moon
whose cycles are ever changing
I am the sun
and while the warm rays of my arms
reach out to comfort your
wandering heart
the night has now turned to
day
and the mysteriously seductive light
has become the exposing and cruel
sun
and all that is left
is the smell of
gin.