With one match
at thirteen, I lit
your cigarette
birthday candles
I leaned forward, blew out
sucked smoke in
kissed
coals in my mouth
words cleaned
on my tongue
As we sang
lips wet
“time takes
a cigarette”
time takes
a quarter
in the slot
and I play
the juke box
wipe years
off my lips
napkins
a chalk board
windshield wipers
smoke sucked down
my throat
Iris Moon Benson is a senior studying landscape architecture and a student in the University’s Kidd Tutorial creative writing program.
