Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2019
I'm the cigarette--
glued to your hand.

I am the soft
flick of your thumb,

dripping ashes on your hand
like snow.
Smoking reminds me of my dad, just the smell makes me feel like he's always next to me
Written by
Ray Dunn  20/F/New York
(20/F/New York)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems