• Cole Stolte


Smokey swirls singing in their hissing, crackling voices while sweet scented smoke blackens my lungs with each inhale. Dried out tree trunks now turned to dust and used only to make me feel better. Just as you used me. Sparks pop as I poke at the logs, allowing the flames to finally heat my frozen heart so I can breathe again, and place the disappearing polaroid picture of you and I onto its funeral pyre.

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