it was just before the spring equinox that we shared
a cigarette and you lulled me into your arms like
carbon monoxide. a slow exhalation and i was there,
like smoke in a jar. burn marks on the insides of my
thighs, the side of my neck, my lips peeling and bloody.
lungs blackened, i heaved you a fragment of song
and you caught my notes in your mouth, menthol
sentiment sweet and heavy. they will find us like
discarded filters in the stomachs of fish, unfinished
decomposition, our love still smoking.