I hold on to your smoke and
strive to imprison it in my palms.
I breathe it in deeply;
to confine it in my chest—
only to choke on
Your nicotine.
You see, you are that abstract cloud
of stale breath and white fumes,
diffusing into the deepest
hollows of my lungs, and
pushing against my
Asthmatic heart.
And I know that you are a vice
that I simply must quit.
But I have nicotine stains on my
fingertips so all they ever
reach for now
Is you.
