the stale scent of half-man
and tobacco confetti
cling to the crevices of stained, cracked paint
with each inhalation
a toxic two-step
he exhaled as my tears spilled forth
I fumble to find the misplaced lighter
it's dark now and there are no matches to strike
tattooed on the underbelly
of my Life's affliction.
Copyright 2007 Tracy Mellor. All rights reserved.