> lana del rey - yes to heaven
THE CLICK OF their lighter and the grey ashiness of their smoke surrounded the air, as rain pelted ceaselessly on the metal roofs, crashing and spraying.
They looked away from the downpour to meet my curious eyes, a small smile dancing across their pursed lips, with fatigue folded in the creases of their lids.
"Would you be interested in a smoke?" The cigarette box they were offering was rumpled and the edges of it were all stuffed in, their cigarette sticks startling white.
I reached for one, feeling the smooth creaminess of the tobacco roll between my fingertips before placing it between my lips.
They brought out a lighter which was cheaply neon blue with scratches on its surface; and the forlorn gaze they gave it—as they lit my cigarette after a few tries—told many untold stories.
"Have you ever seen a god who smokes?" They asked as they sucked in a breath, their eyes following the suicidal crash of rainwater amidst their cigarette smoke.
Smoking felt as grey as it looked.
"I've only ever met two gods, and one of them is you,"
"So this is a first for me," I replied, following the tracks of the argent smog.
We both sat in our gentle quiet on the concrete steps of the dilapidated building, watching as the unfurling wisps from our cigarettes intertwined with each other to disappear, in the afternoon rain.
"Look," They said, their smile could be heard in their voice. "A rainbow in a thunderstorm."
