Needles on skin burning like so many fires

sweat acrid on the tongue, though its vapors are sweet—

the passing shadows breathe deeply

and intoxication follows in the wake of a closing door

somehow telling all who look upon it that they, too are invited

And now the smell of this congregation

sick-sweet opium pulled into their souls

Here where the long pipes are kept always burning

the only windows are on the soul, peering deeper

never out to dim reflections staring back

a mimicry of the footsteps echoing in empty halls

with long, sad stories to tell

all ending at this doorway to a place where all are invited

Never forget.

Photo by medium photoclub from Pexels

9 responses to “Vapors”

  1. Very nice Mitch. As I was reading this piece it took me to the movie “The Ripper” and Johnny Depp in the last scene where he is back at the opium den but this time he isn’t awakened as usual. Death found him there instead. Lovely work. 💕❤️Joni

    Liked by 1 person

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