I am but a shattered
ashtray that once
belonged to a dead smoker

Cigarette marks on the edge of the chair,
The thickness of smoke is gone.
Discussing how life sometimes isn't fair,
Four eyes and two souls make a bond.

Birds in the background are singing their songs,
Slowly but surely they fly.
They get darker and darker, a smoker's lungs,
"It's fine" as I tell myself lies.

Plans get bigger and dreams always shrink,
With time we all learn to let go.
Life speeds up, we have no time to think,
Only stop for a roll of tobacco.

The balcony's edge is this deep orange-red,
Soon the evening will dye the sky blue.
Our hands are now ashy, the sun has just set,
The cigarette's fragrance reminds me of you.

Forgotten Popsicle stick
Dominates in ashtray.
He broke it in half once
But it's been there a while.

He remembered.
Spending summer night.
Outside-
While his dad
Smoked in chains;
Wisps dusting
Humid air.

They just talked.
Cigarettes devoured,
Popsicles slurped
And bitten,
Even as sensitive
Teeth screamed,
Each left
Distinct tastes on the lips.

The ashtray began to crowd,
Butts piled high.
But he'd found a perch
For Popsicle stick
Stained blue.

But then his dad moved out.
And Popsicles
Soon turned to cigarettes,
That lone stick
Being one of the last.
Eventually he dumped the tray,
To get rid of his dad and
Make room for his own addiction.

133.
I've dated you for 133 days now. And you smoke a pack a day.
133 days of bliss, confusion
Blind love
Incredible love
Sure love.
I've kissed parted ashtray
Where those cigarettes have disappeared into.
An ashtray I visit
With my own wandering lips,
Time after time.
But I'm not sure
I'll ever keep up with the cigarettes.
Because you have smoked
2,660
Of them by now
And I know I haven't come even
Close to that
Number of kisses.

2,660,
A number that sinks
In my stomach,
The immensity giving it weight.
Because how many more days; packs, cigarettes
Do I have left with you
If you smoke so often?

Here lies my eighteenth birthday,
The days we've kissed, and said goodbye

And all the laughs and heart to hearts,
Our extinguished tears and fiery eyes,

And all our childish fantasies,
Dog breeds, houses, children's names,

And the blackened fragments of our lungs --
From which we laughed and gayly sung --

Now rest peacefully in the ashtray.

I used to give you cigarettes as if they were flowers
I used to tell you that loving you was like plucking a flower
And you wanted to plant yourself as one in me  
Not knowing that you were doing it as if
you were putting out a cigarette on my chest
Because, to tell the truth,
Loving you was like lighting up and not smoking .

I still pine for us.