last cigarette

I would prick myself on thorns of summer roses
to remember the colour of your lips. to remember
the copper coloured blood vessels swimming
through the whites of your eyes when you were tired.
I would grind glass between my fingers and smother
myself in the sand to remember the feel of your warmth
against my body in the loneliest hour of the night.
I would rip apart aloe vera with my teeth
to remember the taste of your bitterness
at the back of my throat. I would burn myself black
to remember the smell of your breath
after your last cigarette.

© 2019, G.M Stone. All Rights Reserved.