Sometimes,
I bemuse how long it takes myself to exhale your name
out in cigarette smoke.

Your name is like a secret that I will not
force through my vocal cords.

I will not say it any other time.
Merely,
for the fact that your name
is just as toxic as chemicals that I cradle in my lungs.  
I silently let go of your name, and a simple little memory of you
each time I let the smoke escape from my chest,
and over my lips as I breathe out.

Sometimes,
I do not know if it is the smoke
or the hot air that I let out,
to be me letting go of your name.

For,
I fear that the longer it takes me to release the smoke,
is of how much I really miss saying your name out loud.

I am confused on whether
it is the length me slowly letting go of your name,
or if it is just the warm carbon dioxide of my breath.