Bittersweet
His lips were
As I tasted the smoke residue
In his breath
I sensed
The "lucky" in "Lucky Strike"
That touched those lips
And felt those two fingers
Then hours later after making love
He smokes another one
And I analyze his posture
Every detail of that moment
So beautiful and delicate
Like the air that travels from his mouth
And into the atmosphere
As if a part of him discharges too
But his soul remains
The thinker he is
The "I" in his "I love you"
In between after every puff
That he glances towards my naked body
And embraces me
I love this man
I realize this
As he blows smoke out of the balcony
Like he never fails to blow me away
