Smoke

8:00 pm – 8:21 pm 3-21-08

It nestles itself, protruding, between your two fingers.

A flick and it sparks to life.

The bow of your flawless lips curve around the filtered base.

Your eyes shut and you drink deep.

Your lips part and a grey ghost escapes.

It swirls and dances as it slowly rises.

Again you inhale, the tip flaring an angry orange.

You feel the familiar burn and welcome it like a lost friend.

This is your fix, the one you forsook for so long.

You smile, subdued and satisfied.

I cringe inside.

The scent is an intruder to my pure lungs.

It sticks to my clothes and skin, a plague.

I try to escape but it fills every crevice.

Your comfort is stealing you from me.

Mere moments, but moments that matter

When your final days come.

I say ‘no’ when you pass the killer to me.

I make each breath count.

When you press those tainted lips to mine,

My lungs will be clear and crisp

And will await the return of fresh air.