Ninja Smoke

My back is my front, my front is my back... for me, any direction is leaving.

  I pass this, like I pass everything else
by the skin of my teeth & mindless walking
  away  Creating the end, out of blue mist
and loneliness  Until my feet & hands
  remember only doors  Until it's more
familiar to leave than to stay  Until
  necessity forces an exit  The closing
of eyes & goodbyes
  As any midnight shies from morning
partially hazy - slightly pink
  I become thin like memory forming
all indefinite edge & indistinct.