the cigarette
of our pent-up passion
in your mouth
is the only light
in this dark place
the world
has forced us
into

as you slink down to me
somehow seeing
through shroud of black
your cigarette illuminates
a knowing smirk
upon the red lips
of your face

those lips tantalize me
making requests
I can’t hope to fulfill
and begging questions
I refuse to answer

I cannot see your eyes
but I know the future
they see

that cigarette burns in the black
teaching me the meaning of love

as you crawl forward,
awaiting the final pounce,
I know that your cigarette
will fall to the ground
and like our pent-up passion
it will turn the room to fire
and the world will soon
catch too