TagCigarettes

Scentimentality

S

Traces of tobacco tip toed me back to my room. The side of my sleeve, my hoodie’s rim, reeked of your cigarette cough.   On your patio, peeling back conversations between our snickers and long pauses, I’d smile through the silence because he didn’t know about this. He didn’t know about us.   I’d always laugh at your jokes – crack up just at the...

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