The smell, the little hole on its filter

It was a part of your persona stocks

The hell, the little flaw on your power

Where's the pack?

The red, and black

Less charcoal, nicotine lacks

The lips, inhaling death between the crack

Exhaling life away on a hazy white ark

The imperfections, the audacity to not give a fuck

Once, you were sitting on a long couch

Your eyelids, didn't let any light get in

Just like your heart was closing everything in

Night was cold, mind was wilding about

I saw you from the corner of my eyes

On the corner of your lips,

It was perfectly hanging, the old Marlboro

A fire was summoned to lit the stick, and your soul

Your eyes, still in the perfect protection of their lids

Inhale, exhale and blow

"To fill me in," you said

As if I wasn't enough

You opened your eyes, a black hole circled by glowing red

As if crying had ended rough

Inhale,

Exhale,

And blow

Where is your Marlboro now, though?

3 April 2022. Black, it is.

Cr pic: