Smoke

I starred at

the smoke

left behind

a skaterboy’s

vape pen, I

starred until

the whips and

curls dissolved

and the roll

of the wheels

were just a faint

rattle in the

distance. But I

could have starred

at that cloud

all night,

until my noes

turned red,

I could have starred

and painted the

beautiful whips

and curls.

But it is gone

and the skater,

miles away.

Just me and a

fading memory.

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