It’s the cigarette that fell out the rose
The ash on the red petals
It’s the smoker’s cough and red lipstick to pose
As a gambler under glittering neon lights and all
Twenty’s girls. It’s the lit tobacco making
A noticeable change in the smell of the room,
Rough, ***** smoke scent like the pillaging
Of innocence, thou’ a lavender scent, roams,
And resides in my nose now and until my end.
It’s the cigarette dangling at the tips of your lips
In the crack of dawn, my naughty girlfriend,
Attempt to steal it, but it flies into my coffee, flip!
Finally, it’s your laugh that is so devilish
As I immediately impersonate a peevish
Child complaining about coffee and cigarettes.