cigarette.

Just a free-verse poem I wrote about an old flame

You won't know this

But that night

When a rolled cigarette illuminated your face with an amber glow

Your eyes met mine, a clash of earth and sea,

And crinkled at the corners.

Undoubtedly I was drunk, high 

Off your presence rather than alcohol,

But I knew it then when you lazily offered me a drag.

I knew it later when we crashed into your bedroom door, 

A flurry of lips and teeth and desperation.

And I knew it the next day when we sat 

On the crumpled cream couch in your living room 

A palpable, throbbing magnetism pulsing from our every movement.

I knew we weren't meant to last, 

That our passion was your lit cigarette and 

Would surely, slowly flicker to oblivion.

But I was content in the knowledge that 

We were an addiction: a carcinogenic, stress-reliving, 

All-consuming addiction.

And f**k, did you consume me.

Author's Note

just typed this straight up into computer, after reminiscing on this particular night last summer. its not great, and any constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated xx

Reviews

[UN]

Hey, cigarettes are a great use of imagery, and your comparison of the deadly nature of the cig to the endgame of the relationship, I found very well executed and not necessarily expected. Expressive as well, I felt the pain of the speaker. Also I like the use of profanity for a little bite at the end. Well done.

[Augustine]

i like the comparison of the cigarette to the relationship, as others have said. it gives the impression that the relationship was short-lived and toxic, but addictive, and something you might not do again. maybe you could expand a little on what made this person stand out - why exactly them?

[McEltic]

Sometimes we produce our best writing when we limit our thoughts to the ones on our sleeve... i enjoyed this piece and encourage you to keep writing... very impressive