Swirling smoke

Rising from the cigarette that rests between your long fingers.

Your nails painted a dark, deep red.

I notice they match your lips.

I am mesmerized.

I unabashedly stare at you.

Exhaling your day into the night sky.

Swirling smoke carrying with it your faults.

You look troubled and afraid.

But you conceal that well through a labored grin.

You wonder if anyone can see it.

I so desperately want to befriend you.

To approach you like a fond memory.

But I know better.

It would be a rouse, for you are a great pretender.

You had to have been, to survive.

So I sit quietly, in admiration of you.

Hoping that you will look back at me,

Giving the chance, the hope.

But instead you stare into the distance as if you see someone you recognize.

Shrouded by the swirls of smoke that billow from the lit cigarette resting between your long fingers.