You taste like cigarettes,
and sour gummy crawlers,
and london dry gin.
Your lips were soft and sweet,
slightly chapped in a way that reminded me
that you're real.
You ashed on my shoulder
and I pushed you off the step
where we sat
growing a pile of butts, roaches,
and candy wrappers between us on the concrete.
You simply smiled back up,
white teeth that were too often
stained red, or burying themselves
in my neck and shoulder.
Yanking You up between my legs by your
stupid soft bleach blonde hair
pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.
"Asshole," You snorted.
I know You burned me because
my head was floating away and
You wanted it to stay right there beside you.
Ghosting my mouth over your petal soft
ear, silver cartilidge stud hidden by
your stupid stupid hair.
It wasn't just the nicotine
that made You so addictive.
You plucked your cigarette
from between my fingers,
Your black nailpolish chipped,
shining slightly in the porch light
a firefly lazily drifting close,
touching down on your shoulder
before joining its fellows in sparkling dance.
You relaxed between my legs,
resting your head on my
thigh, tracing swirls through
my jeans, exhaling the smoke slowly.
I love the way You breathe
softly against the back of my neck
as we sleep, sweaty hands
tangled together in the sheets.
"I don't think you hate me"
I breathed in your shampoo.
You grabbed my hand pulling
it down onto you chest
"I love you too."