Playing Games

Your lips caressed each other

when you spelled my demise,

“Let’s play another!”

and they were matched by your eyes.

You brought your pen to those lips

and inhaled… deeply.

From them, circlets of smoke slipped.

I looked on, weakly.

Such is a dangerous thing

I would never do,

but I marveled at the rings

you so elegantly blew.

In fact, the things you do that I find so unsuitable

are precisely what make you so beautiful.