Blend No. 27s

I smoked cigarettes for you
stuttering and stumbling
aware of cilia crushing fires
that chained and arrested me like
a dominatrix cop

creo en dios pero hice en malas cosas
I believe in gods but do bad things

I
disguised coughs as chuckles
you mistook clumsy (a)diction
for femme female,
plumes curling
down opened white collared shirts

you held my hand
showing me off, my red herring lips
pursed- you were so so proud

7 minutes gone
the PSAs scolded us
7 minutes you
puffed, sighing
7 minutes saved
aside for me.

What I loved about smoking
was the sudden gasp
escaping your chest

-dropping beer bottles on sidewalk
-cold hands, canvas, bare back
-skirt slips and arm twist

I loved

that your lips turned grey
and your voice wary, caresses
in the folds of your face.

Mama warned me to stop smoking
why I wheezed
“you look like a bitch”
but

you found
the chingada puta in me beautiful,
dressed my thorn crown
lit black candles and silk scarves
immolation was never so sweet.

Clouds and clouds
you lost sight
of furrowed brow and sweat
smudged kohl
and overlooked
yellowing cotton
eyes glossing, no oxygen

in our dizziness
we breathed intifada kisses
in a mutual martyrdom
communion nonetheless

you left to go inside for a jacket
“its chilly” you waved
the pack still gripped into my arm

nene, lo siento
I smoked them all.