I, Pedro am your reflection, you dream of spirals

going upwards, upwards without

puff, without breathing, the toxic

chemicals that surely burns

into the organs, though it is better

to admit that illusion and fantasies

are one and the same,

we all create our own inner

dialogues and my face

is the conversation between

your heart and mind,

the road map lighted up

and the darkness is where

I talk, the darkness you

prefer not to see,

because then it is no longer an

illusion, and I am your best

friend, I make your desire’s take

flight without

that hard landing,

when puff surely comes

into smoke

patterns spiraling, like dancers

they never tire. I am your

subconscious giving

you life.