Photo by Christopher Farrugia on Unsplash

Cigarette on the balcony
Still drunk off gin

Smoke washes the taste of you from my mouth
Your lip balm stains the filter

I open the door softly
Stumble through the room less so

The blankets breath as you do
Up and down, up and down

I don’t want to come back to bed
For if I sleep it will be tomorrow

And tomorrow you won’t be here.