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"You always smile like you're about to cry."
I remember when you told me that.
We were lying together, and it was nearly dark,
and I could see the smoke
curling up away from your face,
which was lit by a cigarette.

I suppose after you left, I needed to get rid of
traces that reminded me of you.
The scent of your perfume was easy,
as simple as doing the laundry.

But your cigarettes lingered
so now I burn incense
day in and day out while I write,
and smoke my cigarettes,
and drink more coffee than I should.

And I can't help but think
that ashes are all that is ever left of my relationships.
Inspiration taken from my penchant for burning incense lately, cold weather, and the writing prompt "You always smile like you’re about to cry." taken from writeworld.
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Submitted on
November 9, 2014
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