Cigarettes and Butterfly Wings

A kiss
Pulled up to your lips
With the urgency
of the rain.

My skin,
soaked...
and
Butterfly wings.
Limp
With the weight
of a thousand
broken, shattered, lost...
somethings.

Glass...
like dreams, pulling me
away...

from what?

I find myself
Mirrored, blurred
The roar of fire
a dragon.
Or a motorcycle?

And leather.
The scent of smoke
Your cigarette burning
rushing through my senses,
second hand smoke,
a gun in my mouth,
seeping into my lungs,
a shot to my brain,
like cancer.