Magician

with my bare hands
I turn smoke into pleasure.
under the weather,
washing distress
off my dry face.

clever

where there's smoke,
there's fire.
as the flames reach higher,
and higher,
it becomes more obvious
how short I actually am.

push the lever

glasses and scissors
snipping away
in the distance
see smoke and mirrors,
in an instant.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/6b9aiq/white_walls/dhl63li/ https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/6b5h69/a_memory/dhl9dy5/