addiction
i kiss my cigarette and wish it were you
with that much longer to breathe you in,
that much longer to hold you again,
that much longer to learn to let go.
i wish it were you as my current addiction,
though i suppose you are if i'm writing,
but i wish it were something more, something different,
that i had known your touch to begin with,
those kisses that must be so sweet,
that warmth to hold close to me.
staring down at the nineteen that remain,
nineteen more times i can dream, i can wish,
i can pretend that it's you, and not a filter
that i am missing and reaching for.
Monday, Aug. 22, 2005 - 4:15 pm