Cigarette Kisses

Poem: Cigarette Ash of The Past and A Heartache I Had Never Known

I enjoyed,

The last couple of kisses,

That one weekday night,

You ended up in my lap.

They linger here,

And dance.

They etch out sweet nothings,

And tingle my sensations.

If I think too hard upon them,

I feel your lips here again,

Like a ghost,

Reminiscing on a past,

That doesn’t exist anymore.

Like a fiction,

I had written,

A piece of my blog,

That are just words,

That had fit.

I keep thinking about your love for me.

Withdrawing and pondering,

Like the draw on a menthol cigarette,

Like the ones I smoked at 16.

Where my rebellion flew free,

Like a kite,

And nothing else mattered.

Heart break then,

Was easy to float through,