ombre sky from the deepest blue to a sandy shade of
unspoken words
its one of those nights where there is an ambience gathering
around the soft light of the street lamps
and there is a chill in the air, the kind that reminds you
that you will eventually cease to exist
smoking cigarettes is a mysterious thing because
you don't smoke to feel
you smoke to die and although there is a sheet
of black ice licking the bottom of our shoes
and our hands are shaky from too much caffeine
i can not finish these words because
there are no sentences, i can not find the right
combination of 26 letters to say what needs to be said
just know that this night is blurry
and when your hand brushes mine
i no longer need these cigarettes to die