secret vice
this is becoming
a habit, a secret vice--
cigarettes with gin
here in this small light
we are just afternoon friends,
my hands still unstained
I will break the chain
of blue afternoon shade dreams
like a sudden spell
gin warms my insides
like a tide washing over
those hidden spaces
this concupiscence
once so sweet, now turns bitter
in an empty hour
—MM Zorn
(Each stanza in this poem is a haiku.)
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