Saturday, March 2, 2019

Inhaled Valentine

Now I’m sorry for each cigarette
Ne regrette
Ne regrette pas
 
If there was ever enemy and friend
Death puts an end
To rivals
 
But not the ones I smoked with you
Furtive giggling out behind the shed
That felt like true evil
 
How rural we once were
Groping the marvel
Of the body
 
And then the ritual
Of the striking of the match
And the inhaling of you

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