As he slowly pressed his lips onto my eyelids,
forehead,
then lingeringly onto my nose,
cheek and
finally,
my lips.

I then only realised how the seconds and minutes stretch out curving, meandering into  ∞.
Half-moons of barely whispered promises but heard all too well.

As I ruefully reminisce, ribbons of myself lay on dusty floors.
For you are never meant to live in the past.

Not again.

Then why do I feel the ghost of your lips dancing on mine?

And so we lit another cigarette
and drowned ourselves
in the Wild Turkey.

Kissed till we asphyxiated
and fell to the ashes,
our matches still lit
and our fingers
still clasped.