pause

I never knew the length of time

a cigarette could hold

until I watched you

from the corner of my eye

and turned pages of some book

in appropriate measure.

I arranged myself

on the bed for you;

flat-bodied, elegant,

a careless piece of hair falling over one eye,

and held my breath, waiting

for your exhalation

so I could breathe your smell, your air,

your secondhand smoke;

reading silent syllables in your lips

absently forming amorphic smoke rings.

watching, fascinated, disobedient ash

unchecked, unnoticed, from your able fingers

slow motion falling to the hardwood floor.

I fall asleep

to the sound of typing.