Still Alarm

I’ll write everything down
so I can forget

you and how you were my last
smoking one, my last

lover to take flame
so literally, the one daily

companion left to invite me
to climb those pariah stairs. It’s time

to put you in the cupboard
behind those pans I never use.

The only things left to shake
are these hands—then they’ll quit too.

5 thoughts on “Still Alarm

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