Until the Next One

I drew it in deeply,
a few times,
until a cough came creeping.
To my surprise,
I began thinking,
with heavy eyes,
shouldn’t I be sleeping?
Why am I outside?
After a slow blink
and heavy sigh,
I set it down
in a small, round rivet;
just the right size.
I took my time
and watched it burn.
Smoke trails turned and sailed.
Ember crawled and ashes fell.
I watched on.
I felt pale.
It’s taken so much of me.
It’s had enough of me.
How many days have I traded
to a burning stick?
No more.

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