I still smell of your smoke.
Wisps of carbon monoxide ribbons
through my hair and allows me one more
glimpse of me, sitting over there.

I still smell of your smoke.
Your laugh sending dragon puffs
whistling on the wind, the warmth of
it, of you, of here, beckoning me closer in.

I still smell of your smoke.
Roll up placed between fingers, resting
by my side. Your light hearted words a
whisper, of the defence you hide behind.

I still smell of your smoke.
Tar resting on my clothes, a
memento of the addiction I
once did swear to loath.

I still smell of your smoke.
simple, but it's true.
Every time I breathe it in I
can't help but think of you.

Smells good.