Face to window
back to the darkened room
he holds a cigarette between
two fingers
sits a stemless wine glass on the sill.
He inhales nicotine
exhales the taste of me in a sour cloud
of smoke.
Beside his foot, moonlight nudges
the sequins on my dress
and I can see
his face, his mouth in a half smile.
From beneath the sheets
I watch his shoulders sway
in the shadows
I bite my bottom lip to fight residual
tremors.
I inhale his scent from the chilled
pillowcase and hold my
breath,
keeping him inside.
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