Cigarettes

double meaning poem, probably the best thing I've written so I hope someone else gets it

I love her.

I love the way she handles a flame,

burning bright when I bring her to my lips.

I love the way her breath floats

carefree in the wind,

as I inhale every word she dares to speak.

I love her skin,

so pale and soft,

encasing everything she’s about.

I love how she makes me feel,

like I’m a ghost drifting through the streets.

My body becomes free and relaxed,

almost numb.

She gives me a sort of high that I can’t quite explain.

I love her smell,

reminding me of coffee on a chilled fall morning,

surrounded by falling leaves and the sound of the breeze rushing through the treetops.

I love taking walks after dark,

when the moon highlights her beauty with a subtle glow.

I love laying in the grass admiring the stars,

with her entwined between my fingers.

She goes perfectly with everything.

Unfortunately she's no good for me.

She's a bad idea,

a false sense of security,

a heartbreak waiting to happen.

But I'm willing to take my chances.

I love her.