A thumb pulls back on a lighter, fire flies up, eager to grab, to please, to warm, to
Ignite the tip of my cigarette, eating up the paper at the end as I
**** in a breath, a pause, a moment of tension as the world
Waits
For me to exhale
And when I blow out plumes for the night sky to devour, I send with them all of the past parts of me that have lived in this world for too long.
An exorcism of the past, an offering to the night:
Please do not haunt me any longer.