The Argeela bubbles
The sweet scented smoke clouds
I am lost in the headiness of it all
The coals swirl around, hot, red, don’t touch you’ll burn
I in hale deeply, knowing the danger, loving the effect
Her voice bubbles
In the dark, it gurgles, it laughs
In the dark, she is my vice
She is my release
She is my pastime, my leisure
My quiet voice in the dark
The voice of thought, of anger, of laughter and of pleasure
The voice that whispers sweet nothings all around me through smoke
She is my vice that I can not indulge
She is the voice I can not hear
She is my voice in the dark
She is the argeela.  

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