Nicotine*

I write this under a reading light,
my hand a shadow,
moving along the page.
I write this because you
told me I could share,
and because I've never really
shared the words that make
my hands tingle.

I write this because
you are my Toluene -
you stir my mind matter
in ways no one else does.
You make me panic,
then relieved, then okay,
then glad to be yours,
and then...

You turn into my nicotine;
The coldness of my body
not pressed against yours
seeps through my skin,
and the withdrawal symptoms begin.