Hazy Habits

A Poem

By Juwayriya Bemath


“no, thanks — non-smoker”
i say as quietly as i can
staring at your outstretched fingers
tobacco and menthol
— c l o y i n g —
the rough ridges of the stained skin of your large, weary hands
the last glints of sunset hit your dark hair
you exhale
i see the tension build, suddenly, between us
“i’ll take one, please”
as we slip into a comfortable silence
the weight is lifted
as we’re trapped within cloudbursts of release
we burn all night
— v e r a c i o u s l y —
fingers dancing
lips parting
bodies finding comfort
instantly gratifying
the first rays of sunrise meet your light eyes
“i’ll take another, thanks”