sadness and cigarettes

Photo via: Marija Kovac

I taste of cigarettes and sadness,
as your eyes trace the contour of my cheek,
the line of my lips,
calculating some unfathomable equation.

And still you lean in closer.

Seeing my shattered heart reflected back
I turn away.
Your fingertips brush my chin,
lift my face towards the heavens.

Still you lean in closer.

I stop breathing,
suspended,
caught in the tangle of uncertainty
that this moment portends.

Frozen,
forever,
not wanting to know if you taste of
sadness and cigarettes.