Retrospect

The smoke rose lazily
Entwining with more above
Almost sensually
To lay on the ceiling

Eyes held eyes hands held butts
Smoking was romantic
Bogie, Bronson, Marvin
held lighters and romance

All gone cigarettes kill
No one says, "Play it a-
gain, Sam" anymore. Farewell
to legends

Is there a triple dactyl? Trying my hand with a different poetry style at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.