Poetry and Prose

Bourbon and Cigarettes

For a moment,
My lips were graced
By something so much sweeter
Than the bitter aftertaste
Of remorse and cigarettes
That I’ve been cursed with
In the absence of your presence.
I savored every second
Familiar flavors danced
On my parched tongue.
And in that moment,
I thought I tasted you again,
But it could’ve been the bourbon.

-D.A. Baker

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