Words Most Foul
Smoke that flows in wispy curls from parted lips offers images of romance, satisfaction, even nonchalance, perhaps, as if it has not already done its damage. It cannot reverse its path, pass over those lips to return the life it drew from every tiny cell it touched. It is toxic, in its very essence, and its bravado must not be ignored, nor forgotten. Words may be taken back, but their intent lingers with an air so foul that it cannot be mistaken for compassion.