When are you leaving?

The smoke from the cigarette
hugs me
I stare in wonder at something I’ve seen so many times
the white trails in the darkness
everything fades

Soon.

The smell will never
dissipate
I begin to wonder
Why is it called a drag
You can smoke a cigarette
in less than 4 minutes
It’s not a *drag
it’s quick

Last call.

My cup is almost empty
Jack on the rocks
the ice drowns
it melts into the canvas
amber substance

I’m almost done.

One more sip
One last taste
the mesmerizing magical magnetic
amber substance
it holds friends together
while the supply is plenty
but what happens when it runs out

Better to smoke the last of that than waste it.

I am pulled back to the
fate stick between my shaky fingers
smoke teasing in and out
deep breath
quick inhale
extinguished

One large swoop
grabbing liver waylayer
laywayer
swig
sip
empty

The bar closed
the door closed


*goodbye.