Fog curls upon the streets.
It rises and twists
like dancers appearing from mists
And vanishing just as quick.
Like a lover’s finger
A tendril of fog grazes my skin
sending shivers that linger…
Ever the softest caress.
The fog is playful,
Impishly so.
I swear it giggles.
The whispers sweetly
To draw me in.
It dances beneath lamplights
In unfettered abandon
As if freed
From a lifetime of inhib...
