image-jury

sulty air swims through my hair
and the stench of dry tobacco wafts through the rafters
the windows aren't opened but air still seeps through
and washes the clean room with a dusty wind
the wood floors creek and the i beams whimper
we sit together on the weather beaten sofa
and you hold my hand in yours
and a cigarette in your other.
you ash off my finger as you kiss your cigarette
and the swirl of gray smoke swirls out toward the back door
the moment etches itself into my brain
as my aperture finally blinks and
i inhale the warm summer air