You look at me, like the last time, with eyes not revealing much.
Another drag of your cigarette, the            s
                                                ­              m
                                                 ­                       o

                                       ­                               k
                                ­                                             e
Curling around your patronizing stare.
With a flick of ash the sky turns to gray.
You whisper goodbye,
but I just wish you would have decided instead,
                             to stay.