Grief in Passing
Sometimes, when I’m alone & it’s quiet,
I can imagine that you're still here.
Because these sights, scenes, & winds are all the same.
The same as when we were together.
I remember our imperfect relationship,
The one I was constantly trying to fix.
Now it's all I crave: Your toxic cigarette smoke.
Your warm cigarette smoke.
The amber smoke I've romanticized to be a part of you.
The haze behind purple shudders is only mine in memory,
Never to be inhaled again.