The Shape of Air

Two figures outside, laughter spills free,

a smoke ring curls up, floats quietly,

it lingers a moment, then fades into night,

a circle of silence that shrinks out of sight.

Their joy, a reminder of days lost in haze,

when I sought release in a foggy malaise,

it twisted and turned, the air rich and thick,

conversations like embers, glowing and quick.

Yet all that we chase fades like the light,

a moment dissolving, a flicker, then flight,

I watch as they share, oblivious, bold,

while I breathe in the ashes, the stories untold.