we can sit here moonlit
all night evoking
forbidden forgotten saints
with our nicotine exhales

from the mouths of babes and madmen
splinters and splintered light
the rumbles of old worlds turning over
the fog and the floating dancing dust

simply to smell aromas
and admire them as more then stimulus
the gift to the modern man
a curse of complexity

the shape of shadows
forged by mass and stars