my lighter ran out of gas
so I lit my cigarette on the stove.
I was saving this light for you
and your pesto pasta,
still in its ***.

it won't get wrapped up with the care
with which I wrap my nicotine
but it'll be wrapped
and waiting for you
like I always do
till I've no more rizlas
or love left to give
unreturned

and as my *** embers out
and I go to light another
tick tick tick
I know, you're worse for me
than this packaged love