It comes so naturally.

The nerves all saturated, ready to convene with that
sweet nicotine
after months of being clean.

It comes so easily.

No queasy feeling
no reeling
no rush

Just hush in the moonlight alone on the patio
the night the only witness
to my sad happy glow.

To the chemical calm.

To the insatiable qualm of a square in my hand
And fire in my palm.

It comes so suddenly**.

A quiet, intent lover.
It hovers above me,
uncovers a lost need.

It smothers my breathing, but I'll take the beating
for one more smoke.

A recovering joke.

I'll take the beating
And stoke the fire.
The sheep in me is bleating
as I succumb to desire.