Death awaits as I burn, slow in scintillating hues of red before turning into dust, grey of ash mixed with a tang from past. for another moment I'll linger around somewhere at the tip cloaked in a veil of black, opaque how emergence juxtaposed into end one drag, one puff, some smoke, then gone escaped into thin air, one last breath an owed kiss on the stale lips of death shedding and dusting off the cigarette fine specks of my greys drop and snows over the whites of a hand-down ashtray, a wiped clean slate, anew and from there I shall begin again. ~Amrita
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