One Cigarette by Edwin Morgan
No smoke without you, my fire.
After you left,your cigarette glowed on in my ashtray
and sent up a long thread of such quiet grey
I smiled to wonder who would believe its signal of so much love.
One cigarette in the non-smoker's tray.
As the last spire trembles up,
a sudden draught blows it winding into my face.
Is it smell, is it taste?
You are here again, and I am drunk on your tobacco lips.
Out with the light.
Let the smoke lie back in the dark.
Till I hear the very ash sigh down among the flowers of brass
I'll breathe, and long past midnight, your last kiss.