I saw the boys of Summer,
smoking on their cigarettes.
Their bare, smooth skin is
a parchment yet to be tainted.
And I, something different,
wonder if I could share their
smooth lips for a moment.
Let them blow their smoke
in my mouth, and taste the ash
still left upon their lips.
I always wanted to be a god
among men, but I will never
be anything like them.
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