Cigarette hits the water,
and the fire is quenched.
I exhale quickly, to
banish the remaining tendrils
that curl inside my lungs.
But I’ve missed one
and it slithers, sneaks,
attaches to my pulse.
A shadow, it whispers
promises of oxygen
to my gasping blood.

I drip dry, and stare at my nakedness.
This shell, this cavern
knows not what she does.

If there were a solution-
she would live it by now.