Slipping Dreams

slipping dreams,
sipping darkness
of many long nights,
stands now like a mountain
asking me
"where have i been sleeping"
like my lover's favourite question

I search my answer
touching my bed
to find its warmth.
again another dream slips
from the burning cigarette
sipping smoke
without a talk.
it slips away
hand in hand with others.

and i wake to an evening
of fumes from the burning roads
with a poem
Of distrust and hate

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