Temptation's Flame

The grey smoke that hovers,
Is pregnant with prospect.
It drifts.
Snips at our noses.
A semisweet perfume.
It singes the senses.
Enabling....
Shape shifting, before us.
But twisting us.
Gaining entry.
Spreading, & rising.
Darkening the ribcage.
Touring up the lungs.
Filling the throat,
With soot;
Inking lust on the tongue.
Cravenness words,
Pushes the smoke out,
On a breeze.
Full circle, it hovers,
Atop a fire,
Born of temptations flame.