the cigarette

And then while you lay and look at the black sky
Between the drapes,the balcony door opens.
The freezing wind of the twelfth floor
Bites your bare feet,
stretched on the bed.
A click – and one more light
adds to the millions
already shimmering out there,
just as distant – and as cold.
You clutch to cover your freezing heels
with the too short sheet,
while the orange light twinkles outside,
closer and closer to his lips.
And you lay there expectant,
hypnotized,
watching how it moves
to and fro,
but right before
the moment it would almost burn
his rough indifferent fingers –
it drops — and starts falling down
behind the banisters.
And the icy wind comes, carrying in
the heavy smoked air –
you roll up tighter and make a wish.

~ от khrystalno на 22 Ноябрь, 2007.