Cigarette Vignette

and then I realize it’s been 4 years since you picked up smoking walking down that glowing street in that same way, legs bending to complete the angle of that hill, and I am almost thankful that smoking was one of the first decisions you ever made and while you think you could stop today if I wanted, there would be memory that would drift off in that last smoke and maybe you would be gone. Something burns me into this moment and you almost trip down the part of the hill which is an angle you’ve had trouble completing for the past 4 years and I’m thankful for the reminder that ankles and knees are made to bend and ache and you’re thankful for the tar and the person you were when you picked up smoking who is long gone, rings of smoke in the fog of this glowing street.