The Soul Goes for Cigarettes

The soul leaves you
more often than death—
several times more often

it leaves you alone—
leaves out of boredom,
leaves out of tedium too,

out of blaring busyness.
It says, “see ya,” and
it does—looks you in

the eye and checks out,
leaving thoughtless,
thoughtless you to ponder

why you’re asleep, why
so tedious to beauty. And
every day you’re lovers

you know there comes
the time you’ll hear, “I’m
only going for cigarettes.”

And you know
you will know
it’s not like that.


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