cigarette fish.

i like standing around

           together outside

    breath

              like we’re smoking cigarettes

  i used to hate cigarettes

now they are fog

            and

                 mist

  maybe that ember on the end

spitting ash

        glowing nicotine

brings warmth.

    and

it is Now, februarygone,

that i begin to think of the ocean again.

        sand

salt

   skin burned all copper like pennies.

 and watermelon and stained freckle cheeks.

           we are fish.then.

    we are colors

                   even the water is warm.

     then. too warm.

 like the sparks

             fell

out of the cigarettes

             and hit the blue.