[Had this dream a few days ago. Want to turn it into a song. Don’t know who he is, but I could wager a guess…]
He reaches into his shirt pocket and fished out a carton- pretty fresh with just one or two sticks missing. He leans into the box and takes one out with his teeth, other hand already searching his pockets for a light.
“Here,” I hand him my own lighter and he grunts his thanks, cupping the tip and flame as they kiss and consume.
He takes a deep, long drag and his shoulders slump forward and his entire body relaxes. When he finally glances back at me, it seems as if he’s just realized that I’m here. Almost as an afterthought, he offers me the carton half-heartedly, as if he can already hear the words of rejection forming on my tongue. I swallow them down and start over with a shrug.
“Sure, thanks.” I choose my first carefully, and put it to my lips. Amused, he lights it for me and when I can’t hold my breath any longer, I breathe in.
The flame, the tobacco, the cigarette all crumble between my lips.
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