cigarette stained stories

Red sheets

on a white bed

cigarette stained pillows.

She whispered secrets in my ear,

told me stories

so we could imagine a better time.

Not here,

she says with a hiss in her voice,

We don’t have to be here.

We smoked in England

ate in France

danced in Spain

drank in Ireland,

we made love under the stars in Finland.

She said we were on a boat,

red sails,

on a white ship

cigarette stained stories.

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