Last Tuesday

I can watch your reality
As well as you can live it.
And when I tire of watching,
I can pull down the shade
Within a half-inch of the sill.
But I'll need that small ray of reality
That will still shine through,
Illuminating dust particles
And lovers' tongues.

I have left my lipstick and my lies
On so many cigarette butts
In ashtrays and on floors,
Including my own.
Living on pieces of stolen time
Spent watching my smoke stain the ceiling brown.

It's the same smoke I smoked last Tuesday.
It will always be the same
Because molecules only recombine
And pretend that they're new.

-- Darla Kay Sanders-Weatherford