This cigarette

I won’t let you take this cigarette away from me.
I know it’s gross
and unhealthy
and I’ll die of cancer
and I’ll curse every single one I’ve smoked.
But this one cigarette
on the balcony
of this shabby little apartment
with this last half glass of wine
in the soft gray sunset light
in the sweet air
- yes the air can be sweet in this city
swept down in one big rush from the mountains -
watching the people walking below,
this cigarette is all I want today because
there were so many people, you see,
and they all talked,
and now finally
there’s just me
and the smoke.