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Black And White

By Aspen Crick

Contributor


It’s that time of year again:

Spooky season,

Her favourite season.

A smile escaping her lips

As smoke makes its way past them.

Cigarette in one hand,

My hand in her other.

A flannel to keep her warm

But her blood flow being enough

To keep the surge of energy.

“Smoke and cigarettes”

Smoke filling the air

Only makes me miss her more

More than I should.

All I have left is a wisp,

A cloud of smoke.

Watching from a distance

As others find love

In October.



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