Smoke

Why did I fall in love with you?

I couldn’t help but laugh. Darling, I didn’t fall in love, I fell in lust.

How, you ask?

I watched you smoke. Leaning against a fence, your leather trousers casually low on your hips. You were smoking with your whole body. Your wrist was rigid, your fingers relaxed. Your chest rising while you inhaled the sour nectar. You made the world glamorous and chic. I watched you wishing I was the cigarette in your mouth, the smoke swimming around your lips. And I was yours. You had me, because you didn’t try to.