One last cigarette

Let the fourteen hour day,
the aching hand,
perishing teeth,
acrid taste
and shit state of a home
be put to one side
for a few fleeting moments
as the head readies itself for slumber
and the cigarette smoke
dances in between my eyes
and the screen…

I have been lucky enough to conquer myself
and still have that face to lavish
with eyes, soul and promise.
That misused word ‘fate’ has decided
to let me hold her
as we laugh together
just like you see in the movies
I’ll never see.

Even now, lying in this bed, without her
I don’t mind too much.
For once, to know that she is there;
sleeping soundly
no longer a lifetime away
is enough for the calm smile
I grew estranged to.

My teeth will graze her neck,
whilst her deft hands
work me in to that frenzy.
We will feast upon each other
in total unison.

Truth be told:
I was worried
I didn’t know what love was.
I didn’t know what much of anything was…
That’s the trouble with the writer;
he lives through his art,
but not through life.

Well! There will be one more thing
that I will live through:
The page can’t have all of me.
Holding up the mirror to myself
I see Sarah stood behind me
smiling that smile
as the night gently
loses its intensity
and the birds prepare their song.
I almost have a tear in my eye:
I look back on myself
and am rhapsodic
that she can never have those aspects
of that man ever again.

Let it be known that you can conquer yourself
and that the fight is worth it
no matter where it takes you,
but…
for now
I must scratch my love
deep in to the surface:
This one’s for you, Sarah
as you sleep
and the clock finally
tick tocks towards you
once more.