a re-lit cigarette never tastes the same
the stale smoke is thinner and quieter and drier than the usual tar-based fog
your mouth always tasted like the pomegranate lip balm you wore
(the lip balm i always stole in your absence because i missed your mouth on mine)
mixed with the sharp bite of your cigarette smoke
i smoked reds
you smoked blacks
and in turn, my taste changed to match yours because you are my favorite flavor
and i remember the day when you kissed me
and your lips tasted like a re-lit cigarette
and it wasn’t even a marlboro
and i knew you didn’t love me anymore