Cigarette Kisses

There are empty places stashed inside this cellars
That your soldering grazes cannot reach,
That reverberates its caterwauls for a succoring chance,
That is hollow, void and obstructed of reprimands
And in these spaces, the flame of life seeps out
To burn the lamented fringe and seal the debris left
Or squander it away with the ephemeral cosmos
And disembogue the frothy screen of bereft.

poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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