The cigarette between your lips leaves a scent of tobacco on your skin.
Your way of washing away what has just happened. Washing away the scent of me on your body.

Pretending and forgetting moments.
That cigarette once lit is your so called escape. Your so called pain reliever.
That fire in your hand lights the very thing you use as an excuse to walk away.

My bed lays empty, my body lays hollow. And I’m simply left with the scent of your cigarette smoke.