I equate the smoke of a cigar
To the delicate yet addictive poison
Of vulnerability:
The light sigh it releases when its
Enigmatic words shape a
History, a past 
That is forbidden to be told 
To anyone other than the cool night air—-
That of which will be extinguished when
You are sick of it;

And the foreshadowing of death that
It leads;

Taken in the wind.
Gone.