Citrus Cigarettes

Few times before have I delved such depths,
Than with a citrus cigarette.

The dry air was filled with Mandarin smoke,
I wasn't even surprised when the Dandelion spoke.

The rainman and I traded faces,
The sun was a Clementine,
But in all the wrong places.

Sing it again, Flower Child,
of our fruity fallacy,
as we slip back in the garden
of citrus dreams.