return me to a cigarette

i wrote a new one today. abbie likes it. but it's not as good as this!



maybe tomorrow i'll manage to get at least a rough version of the new ones up here. meanwhile, i humbly submit this poem, by my favorite gal. enjoy it responsibly.



There’s a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons -
That oppresses, like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes -

Heavenly Hurt, it gives us -
We can find no scar,
But internal difference -
Where the Meanings, are -

None may teach it - Any -
‘Tis the Seal Despair -
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the Air -

When it comes, the Landscape listens -
Shadows - hold their breath -
When it goes, ‘tis like the Distance
On the look of Death -


Emily Dickinson (#320)