Cigarettes and wishes

The way you hold a cigarette
Has me longing to be one.
To be delicately pressed
Against your petal lips;
To have you long for
The life inside of me,
To need me
Like a drug.
For that, my dear,
I would fill myself
With poison
Before climbing in a box
Awaiting the moment when you decide you need me.
For an addict never
Seems to lose
A cigarette.

If I were a cigarette,
Being chosen at the
Utmost preliminary
Would be closer to an honour
Than to torture.
For I could be certain
No matter when,
Or where,
Or why,
It would be I you needed most.
As your breathing slows
I would lie
In your fingertips
Feeling your emotions
Roll away on the breeze.

And I’d be happy too,
As being a cigarette,
With my life transferred
To you
Through every breath,
I would know
I’d only live
Whilst I was yours.


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