You lit my cigarette
mechanically, and with a
jilted and wilted face.
You rubbed your eye and
looked at me with the other
almost like assessing the space –
I always knew you were
the same as those before you
but I had hoped for most gumption.
I gave a little, lost a bit more
as you betrayed my effort at goodness,
like a disease, like consumption –
Like a vacuum.