I remembered the time we sat on the couch
Your hair was damp from the shower you took
You smelled like fresh mint
It felt warm having you close, but your hands were cold
I watched as the man on the screen
Held up a cigarette and talked to the beautiful blonde girl who would cling to him
She didn't look like she minded his smoking
Her eyes were filled with love
I watched as they kissed
And I wonder how she could kiss those lips that tasted like poison
I wondered how she could love someone that was slowly killing themselves
I looked over at you
and I said "smoking is gross"
You looked over at me and nodded your head
That was your way of agreeing
But what you said next surprised me
"It is gross, but I wouldn't mind blowing smoke into your lips, close enough to kiss you but not quite there yet"
I watched your eyes as they glowed at the idea
I find smoking disgusting
Yet the idea of slowly dying by his doing
sounds enticing
