Smoke

I desperately love the smell of cigarettes
not sure how I couldn't
everyone I ever loved has smoked

starting with my grandfather
the first person outside of my immediate family that I felt a real love connection with

one day, to save his life I hid his pack of cigarettes out in the garage when he wasn't looking
I knew he couldn't smoke if he didn't have them
so was certain this would get him to quit

that was the first time someone
outside of my immediate family
had showed violent rage towards me

and my mom, as stern as I've ever seen her
told me that I had to find those cigarettes right away
and when I did
she explained that there was nothing I could do

I suppose it goes without saying
I learned a lot that day
as the day that he died of emphysema

but every time the smell is dense enough
I breathe in as deep as I can
my mind whirls 
with Mykie at the park holding his cigarette out 
to kiss me on the cheek
Austin driving us in his 4runner with all the windows down
rummaging in his side console for a lighter
or passing the cigarette to Lizz sitting behind him in the back seat
and every person in between
before and after
from now on
and still
each and every time that I hear the words

we're going to go out and smoke

I stop myself from wanting to ask if I can join
I stop myself from wanting to hide those packs in the garage