Sitting on the window sill
Staring into the night
My feet rest on the roof
I take a drag of the cigarette
And blow out the perfumed smoke
I watch the cinders blow in the wind
Thinking of lost relationships
The old and the new
The fake friends I've given up
How it feels when you touch the back of my neck
I taste the sweetness of the cloves
On my lips
And wish you were here
To taste them too.
