Smoke Rims on my Rings

you liked me standing there naked in my glasses looking at myself in the mirror, watching the smoke curl up from the joint, just like my head as it reached a state a state of high. in the rafters, speaking to the huddled swallows keeping warm against a blizzard that i dont know if we felt. you were on the wooden floor looking up from between my legs, how is perspective when i can never gain yours? touch me. i thought. but i kept my glasses on, to hide behind them, lenses reflecting a little glimmer of possibility and keeping out reality. but then you grabbed my leg and pulled me to the floor, i wasnt wearing my glasses anymore.