Your smile is a torn mattress disheveled throbbing in place
Your smile is a rare insect singing on candy gallows in New Orleans
Your smile is a helpless, pacifistic hand extended in the forest-alone
Your smile is a kiss of thermonuclear sun addicts, smiling through rayon lips
Your smile is a chipped philosopher’s tattered idea sunken into a smooth granite brain
Your smile is not forced, but senile, like a burglar running in lead shoes
Your smile is an objective mirror of the advances I’ve forgotten
Your smile is a brief, beautiful shadow burned on the walls of night
Your smile is wrapped in cool Havana cribs pestled into a minty infinity
Your smile is projected on coffee-shop walls, where I write
where time is told with a beat
and the 12 dimensional collapseable universe
grounded in my drink
touches the small of my words
and its easy to think.