each cigarette now
is you and i then
entwined in a back car seat
me face up
counting the leaves not yet fallen
as i burn down to my filter
as you seep slowly like sap down my spine

i can still feel how sharp your teeth were
can see your wrinkled foundation
thin slices and bright orbs of her in your irises like
a string of lanterns in the night

and for many moons i
walked in your field
sent murmurs up to your window
kicked rocks to drown your doubts
oiled the rusted binds of my predecessor

you were so swift and careful
felt the pulse in my fingertips
cut loose the fishing line
snuffed out a menthol in my wrist

but even now
the tempered taste of marlboro glory
is not my own
it’s a folded map
i skip over city lines and highways
though when my back hits dead grass
the smoke rises while i
look upward expecting the same view

the stars are strung, an insect anthem decrescendos
you are far from this field, far from that car
and far from the ashes collecting below
my last smoke