Monday, 28 December 2009

A Tale of Three Cigarettes

We breathe the same breath, but the air is so different.
Mine heavy with unconcern. Hers, lithe and hopeful.


"He knows why you went for me, in truth.
I, something new for your something blue.
The perfect time and place, the perfect start
the perfect way to mend a broken heart.

So he takes your excuses, and he wraps a cocoon
Of bitter acquiescence, or the part of a fool.
But all of it is yours, so take what you will
No matter if his heart breaks, or tears spill."