Your love is like cigarettes-

Pleasure-with the taste of regret-

Paining me with this malign tumor.

My lungs blacken, my heart murmurs-

But I ignore the warning siren-

To inhale the liquor breathe of your grin.

As I am drunk with sensuality-

Unconcerned about social disease-

Because the few moments of harmony-

Are the addiction of my illogical sanity-

Needing to taste that nicotine-

Like the perfumes in magazines.

Why must it flicker out in minutes-

When I need more than the ashes of memory!

Perhaps I should make attempts to quit-

But this love-or lust-is my only ecstasy.