I buy a pack every two days,
Thinking today is gonna be my last.
I’m going to quit,
I will.
At least that’s the thought process.

The **** of the cigarette is on my lips,
******* in the chemicals and tabaco.
Nicotine,
A chemical driven to addiction.
An escape for two seconds of inhalation.
The calmness of the chemicals coursing through.

A sweet disgusting escape.
A cancer stick if you will.

your lips remind me of the bottle of rosé
we shared on a cold November night,
full-bodied and lush
when i kiss you, i taste hints of citrus.

my lips on yours, full of passion, burning,
it reminds me of the cigarette you smoked
during the intermission of the play we watched last January,
as bright red embers, burn bright, keeping you warm.

you are my addictions,
my nicotine and wine.

I may be a smoker
but I still think of the fruit
when I hear cherry