i re-learn how to smoke cigarettes like i learned how to hold a pencil.
i watch the clouds and wish i could change that easily.
as if the birds, sitting on those telephone wires, knew what was on my mind.
i'm dreaming of back seats and my breath in the winter and my life being like a western.
this reminds me of being 19.
it's easy like that again.
and i will make clouds by breathing fire.