![](/sites/default/files/styles/large/public/smoking_1.jpg?itok=dqXA-Q9k)
Cheap.
The way she smoked
Those cheap-ass cigarettes
That left a bitter taste in her mouth.
The fireball whiskey
That burnt her throat all the way down,
Those were the tastes of her lips
And the smell of her.
I loved those.
And now they’re gone.
This poem is about:
Me