"Do you smoke?" you asked
as you let a gray cloud drift away from your mouth.
"No" I said quetly, ashamed that you might think I wasn't cool.
I avoided giving you that speech about dying soon.
You stayed quiet and inhaled from that toxic stick one last time
and pressed your lips gently onto mine.
I tasted the Marlboro's on your tongue
and became addicted to smoking from your kiss.