Jill Bolte Taylor's Stroke of Insight

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Thursday, May 23, 2013

Smoke



tonight I am driving
through a memory of rain
and stale cigarette smoke 
in the bar where your words crumbled
to ashes in the drink I never finished

this old restlessness still tracking me
(the highway falling behind
rhythmic, endless
a decision already made) even now
after all these years without you

and my memory is this: you
standing in the rain at my door
damp, unshaven; and I, leaning out for a kiss
knowing all too well the bittersweet taste
of old smoke and promises


KB © 5/22/2013

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