yes this is a companion poem to the fic I just posted

[sablestardust]

Things learned or Consequences

I.
Weed smoke,
contrary to popular belief
as dictated by above the influence commercials,
is neither green
nor does it smell like mint.

II.
Boyfriend stones,
but apparently
that is the wrong term;
apparently stoner is a misnomer, “stone”
doesn't mean to take in smoke,
just like “hit” is not an act
of violence,
but an act of love,
of peace, of re-
creation.

III.
Throat itches;
hands stop
shaking & boys sleep
with their perfect noses pressed
into the flat plain of your shoulder;
beneath your second shirt
40% chance of rain-
humidity sticks
his hand to your back so
he can't pull away & doesn't want to;
40% chance of rain-
humidity stinks
of what has been passed
between his lips & then between you
& him.