Part 2: Smoking Words

Photo by Rafael Guajardo on Pexels.com

I drag on the words that you utter like a chain smoker pulling on a lit cigarette. Blowing circles in midair that send loose lips spiraling into a distant sea. Your vowels are ashed on the cusp of me. But I take the burns and watch the gray matter fall knowing that the pain makes no difference at all. Because I ache to hear you speak.


Love always, Esha ❤

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