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Briana Galbraith May 2012
Her blanket of curls drape lightly around her face
as she carelessly handles a cigarette between
red-stained lips that grip
white and tan paper.

A flick of a flame grazes the tip, smoldering incandescence
highlights her mouth, a shade of sun-burnt orange;
the tiny lit secret sits at the ridge.

Without hesitation, she takes one long drag
and emits a lifetime of fear, worry, joy, and love
that settles into the nightlife. The escaping smoke coils
into the air, leaving a soft haze above her head.

She knows who she is,
and she knows where she is going, something
the man next to her at the bus stop has not quite figured out.

Neon red brake lights play off her face
as she glances towards him. Her wide eyes burn with intent,
jewels of sapphire blue. The huffing bus makes its presence known,
and he holds out a hand to motion for her to go first. She smiles,

and they slide into the light.
Written March 15, 2011

— The End —