One cigarette to my name – a
Last crackling ray of sad brevity, inspired voraciously
Like a Hail Mary for an epilogue of warmth.
Embrasuring the atmosphere with its release;
She's the grace at the tail of a long day.

Precocious baby, tempered to a china-blue hue, you
Had not been ripe as a morning glory
Before riots mongered in the plasma of your shapeless head.

Haunting as an omen, you
Had drank from the cord of my cold-blooded artery.
Turned my insides out like a shimmering dime bag
As we fell to the earth.

It's funny in the dark
Hilarious in the void
Right up until the point
Your ego gets destroyed.