( continuation of vodka)
nicotine ;
i lay in the meadow
where he told me i was exquisite
and where his old cigarette buds lay
dampened by summer rain.
there is a taste of him
when tobacco stains my lungs
and smoke billows from my lips
and so i smoke three packs a day.
it is not a strong taste
not cheap wine on beggars' tongues
no, this is just a hint
a reminder of vodka kisses
on soft thighs.
that's the problem
i would rot my lungs
and choke on soot
and vomit blood
just for a hint of him.
they say it is the nicotine
that addicts you
and yet
nicotine is nothing
compared to him.
ー
i'm sick in bed rn so that means lots of shitty attempts at poetry instead of revising for my finals !!1
