031615   031624

I don’t like to write cigarette now
in a dream some years ago 
   everything was paradise 
   I was smoking a butt 
   and that was okay
then waking to reality 
another self-denial day.
I don’t like to type it because desire is sneaky like that
in fourth grade girl scouts
someone told my sister my plan with Dick Whitaker 
we'd steal his parents’ Tarytons
and smoke as many as we want
Cheryl said she wouldn’t tell
then mom smelled cigarette breath. 
I remember her reproaches
("stunt your growth")
but what could she do
and already I had lied.