I rest my forehead on my finger tips.
Rings of smoke still linger around them.
Breaking locks they slither through my curly hair.
They touch some of my sticky thoughts.
So they quickly slide down my forehead.
I press my closed lids with my palms.
It's soothing!
I rub my cheeks up and down.
The remorse is felt in pumping region.
I feel the rumble like some static movement.
They run upward like some molten lava.
I cup my breaking mouth obstructing snivels.
I succeed for a while.
The molten lava moves further upward
and my fingers rush to hold my closed lids,
to hold yet another swelling dam!
This time they break and stain my fingers.
I clear my nose.
