September 6, 2012
Remember where we used to go to smoke
cigarettes? I stand there now on moss covered rocks.
I see your eyes of sky glisten through the oaks.
Comfort smoke fills your mouth instead of talk.

We were love, burning plants amidst tree stalks.
Going home never worth missing you and the birds.
For the filter your lips always pursed but
for me you had not a visceral word.

Since then, profuse I have grown; but what have you learned?
Back then we were ignorant, we were kids.
Love is a crapshoot and we had our turn…
Too bad nescience had us infected.

You still managed to leave me with your mark:
a cigarette burn on the surface of my heart.

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