Swirling smoke spills like rising waters from my bedrock lips,

It hisses in the air like smoke drawn dragons,

Licking and slithering in my direction,

They flicker their fire hot tongues at me,

Begging to consume me once again.

The cigar in my fingers feels heavy,

Leadened with too many half-willed promises,

I know I should snuff it out,

That wildfire on the end that promises to ravage all that it touches,

But my lips meet that papery edge once more,

And I am too far gone to stop,

Too addicted to that familiar warmth that embraces me.

I go in for a second drag,

And then another,

And another,

Before long that smoky dragon has its hands around my throat,

And once again,

I am too weak to defeat it.