gray walks anika home
she seems to be fine with it
she's not
she's remembering her own love, who had left her earlier in the year
who used to walk her home
who used to keep her pure
she inales the smoke of her cigarette and closes her eyes
she seems to be fine
now she is
anika exhales, smiling at gray
the wisps escaping her feel of gentle, loving touches on her face
it reminds her of him, but she doesn't care
she's fine
"have one," she says to gray
gray returns an uneasy smile
he's never done anything like this
no smoking
no drinking
no sex
no drugs
but anika is eagerly grinning at him, making him feel as if he were holding her joy in his hands
and this time, he can't say no
YOU ARE READING
chimère
Poetry-- a dream he loves; a dream he can't touch; a dream that's killing him. -- (cover by me)
