I watch the tip of her cigarette burn.
In the darkness, the light shows her face.
Cast in a red haze, she looks adrift.
Her eyes are lost in shadow.
The burning ember fades as her lips withdraw.
In the fleeing light I watch her exhale.
Lips spread and a slight smile forming.
The smoke flows toward me and I laugh.
I laugh at the perfect beauty of the moment.
My hand reaches up to touch her face.
Fingers wanting to caress her cheek.
Before I can rest a finger on her, I know.
Know, that it is not her with me.
The cigarette falls to the floor and burns.
My fingers touch the cold glass.
The face in the mirror is mine.
I can almost see her walking away.
The smoke following her
down the hall.