smokers

i’m trapped inside a room of mirrors.
six of them, surrounding me:

i guess i’ll be staying here for a while…

i take out a cigarette, so do the reflections.

i put the butt between my lips and light the other edge with a match.

i sip the white air out of the stick and take a deep breath,
bitter air sends a flame down my throat.

and we all exhale smoke.

so much smoke from so many images…
all came from one matchstick.

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~ by saikow on November 28, 2006.

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