she smokes to feel him still

She likes her mornings different
Maybe a little smoke here and there
Not the usual societal way of waking up
to a four-walled room
encrypted with familiar colognes
and stuffy rooms

She wants to wake up to an
old 60s rock band
No tear-stained sheets clothing her
with night sweat-
nothing but her black laced underwear on

Her copper hair dances in light tunes
with the wind
Sitting on a weathering boulder
she smokes on a
cigarette as though
life itself were processed
along with the shitty
substances in it and
she needed to have it again
Her fingers clung to it
afraid to drag it away
from her ruby red lips
Memories were entwined in
what seemed like her paradise -
Laughs, star gazes and midnight talks
filled with smoke in the air
She used to be happy, she thought,

Before death robbed her of him...