Roll me a green one and wait for the dense smoke, 

a dizzy spell and some music like single strand of translucent water…

Every doors to go back to poor sober senses are closed, 

Mangoes in summer afternoons and then there’s the salvation liquid in you, my love. 

I am yellow in your baking temperature…burn me, 

burn me in this poetic trance of dry paradise. 

There’s no need of words…just light it with me and take me inside you…

A raging storm is all I need in this land of dead leaves.

…………………………………………………………………….

Photograph: Byron Jorjorian.