Smoking

August 12, 2013
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He knocked on the door three times
each a pounding on my heart
the rhythm of your breaths
with the smoke in your chest
as you welcomed Death through the door
into your lungs
and out of your mouth

He smiled
face gray, strained, forced, and old
like your chapped lips
as you sealed your fate with a kiss,
lips puckered around your poison

you took His hand
counted to three
held your breath
and mouthed goodbye





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