Smoked Out.

Rooms compose and decompose around me; I see words as art and hear the meaning between the lines. Mortals always stare at me like they've discovered a forgotten siren but they're just seeing someone who was crafted a little more thoughtfully than they were. I prefer the company of poets like Poe over the people around me though I'll entertain any beating heart whether it be in chest or floor. I don't fall in love that's my #1 rule, but I won't stop others from falling for me, build a temple for me and I might give you a second glance.