Smoke smoke smoke that cigarette – puff puff puff
Until you puff yourself to death,
Then tell St. Peter at the golden gate that he will have to wait
Cause you Gotta have another cigarette.
I count my blessings when I hear my fingers play with my bones because you bet it’s you who is calling. Just one venomous kiss, a few draws gives me wings to fly, it carries me to cloud number nine. Ours is a trivial lie, too complicated for people who have not locked lips with you to understand. When I wake up every morning, I want to start my day by kissing you, after every sumptuous meal I want a piece of you, wherever I go I dribble you. I carry your scent all day, to the bathroom, to the lecture halls, in my car and even to bed. If this isn’t love than I marvel what is!
When I enter the classroom after our nth date, I see all those envious eyes feeding on my delight but I don’t mind. I don’t mind women (read beautiful Spartans, floored and impressed by my poetic skills but filthily staring at my stinking state ) parting ways with me because I realize in my blackened heart filled with your dark magic that they are jealous. Their envy is for you my love, because honey, they know ours is an eternal union and they could never have it. What fun is it to be the same, what rush I wonder! Your message in a bottleful of divine ecstasy is sincerely transmitted through my DNA. They say it’s the first sign to heart disease but then who cares!
You know ours is more than love, simply! I wait for hours to pass, when under the senseless law of guilt, the justification for my addiction is heard. When it pours down from heaven I feel romance and this is when I want you ever so more. The rich aroma of your marrow that people term as tobacco, the fresh scent of your sexy white frock, the blind who calls them as paper, your lovely brown filter shoes and those deep drags makes me crazy. I am so crazy about you baby. I have read the great writers say that you are a perfect type of a perfect pleasure. You are exquisite and your company leaves one unsatisfied. What more can one want!!
Now excuse me but aren’t our purpose of existence to find beyond our insanely wants? I guess it is so I look back at our sexual congress and relive those memories that I have spent with you. As a teenager sneaking around the backyard of my house, the premises of my school it all started. It wasn’t just for reasons that were masculine or glamorous but so much more!
I still remember the first time when my eyes stared at you, you exclaimed, “Hey smartie, do you like what you see?” And then my instantaneous transport to your enchanting world of disguise. It was heavenly. I liked the feel of showcasing you to my young world. I was a little edgy but you calmed the cough out of my breathing lungs.
They said smoking is addictive, don’t start!! The ministers even tried to dethrone you from the toxic lips of the villains smoking cigars and the hotties smoldering the Marlboro lights on the silver screens but you survived. You were always the feeding herb to the creativity of every artist alive. The liking for you grew with every meeting and before I could realize you were the one thing that I always carried with me in my wallet. I could forget the rubbery contraceptives but never you my love.
If I couldn’t score well on mid-term exams – read Micro 😦 it wasn’t because I was losing memory or catching Alzheimer, it was maybe because I was trying hard to get over you. Slowly but surely you are being banned from my playing fields. I wonder how I will be at a place where you are not invited!!
When I wake up these days I see wrinkles under my eyes and the black shadow on my lips. The guilt in me grew when I met my friends who ill advised me against my better sense, against you my darling. They said that the only logical end to our affair was death that one day I will have all my friends and nephews visiting me in the hospital with tulip and roses. That on those stinky hospital beds I will have to spend my last days alone! You have started tasting horrible and the relief that you promised my senses once has left for sightseeing. I love you, I don’t love you. Quit smoking or to enjoy smoking!! The questions will always be there but as long as I am prepared to kick the butt and handshake with the ghost, I am sure they will not bother me much.
In old novels, the price of every love was death and I wonder will our courtship result in the same!!! Knowing when you are going to die is far more romantic to me, my princess. But, he who never lived cannot die. I want to weave memories with my loved ones and fret dying for now. To do or not to do is not a question anymore <.>
~ A smoker
<Rehearsing to breakup, once more>