when I was sixteen
Grace and I smoked
some cigarettes on her drive way
on a summer afternoon
my first breath
a rush of nicotine
made me dizzy to childhood
we drove and listened
to Christian music
briefly sweating
while we swore and smoked
Allison and I loved
winter cigarettes
bland coffee and cold grass
beneath our bodies
warm sun lay sleepily across our backs
school left behind mid-way
with contented smiles
Aaron did not have a car
i drove the two of us
through foreign neighborhoods
after school with mix cd’s
short-lived and
always spraying sweet perfume
deep cologne
before sitting well-behaved
at the dinner table
enthusiastic about our studies
Next to the river
rushing water
sometimes littered and malodorous
on the highway bridge
in the center between two worlds
rushing past
Jacob and I
had nothing to do
everything to say
the one I lost
grew up without me
hunched on the curb
outside his parents house
with me next to him
older and less destroyed than he
we both inhaled exhaled
without knowing what it meant
i smoke still
those who have gone
stay with me
with each inhale
and swirl of smoke released
against the night canvas
must i let them go
for my poor lungs’ sake?