it's far past midnight

and i'm leaning against
a rusted Chevy truck,
humidity sticking to all
the parts of me i never
want to show.

moonlight plays tag
with the trees,
the leaves running like
waves and I reach for
another cigarette, but
not before staring
at the molten rock
perched between my
fingertips - its searing
pulse and angry face
remind me of you.

the wind nudges my
hair then pulls it
in every direction;
i am momentarily
blinded, and as i
angle my body away,
i almost extinguish
the cigarette on my
kneecap.

i almost do, but don't.