Jane Monheit

“Like a ghost that dances on the tip of a lit cigarette,I know what romance is, but it hasn't happened yet.Watch it floating up to heaven only knows,Disappearing before you get too close-It's only smoke. You might say a flame was burning, only smoke--but my heart is more discerning, I keep dreaming of a fireBut when I wake up to the cold--It's only smoke.Eyes are hypnotizing when they hold you within their embrace.Words are mezmerizing even when they've got nothing to say.The game is charming in an empty kind of way.What's the harm in asking me to play?It's only smoke. You might say a flame was burning, only smoke--but my heart is more discerning, I keep dreaming of a fireBut when I wake up to the cold--It's only smoke.”