(The cigarette is a monologue by a cigarette addressed to its smoker who is critically ill in a hospital )
There you stand, your living days numbered as that white-coated devil states. And I, with all my memory somehow keep forgetting it.
You were right about me.
I did want too much for myself; it’s always been that way and will still be. But it will be so, with only you.
And always with you.
How you have hidden my presence from everyone’s sight…As if I am an abomination to you?
I lay here camouflaged, amongst your “Other” belongings. These Other… Things.
Things they are, of grim and gloom that have managed to separate us by telling you that these will keep you alive.. Just physically. That’s all.
Tonics, syringes,tablets,monitors.. oxygen tank? More like poison to your soul, are these Things of grim and gloom.
I know I am there, not at the back of your head as those white-coated people say.
I am there, right there, inside your heart., seated with a rightful sense just as queen claims her throne.
Murmuring my presence away.
You hear me. I know you do.
Just as I can.
I can see you.
There as you stand, your breathing frail body covered in that grim green hospital robe. You are speaking to that white-coated devil with your thin hands trying their usual stance to complement the words that come out of your now swollen lips.
Oh, your lips!
Your smile … Let me not get distracted now.
But your perfect stark nose through which my soul so brushed with such agility and grace.
Your stern eyes that carried such weight of your livelihood.That gorgeous forehead with sweet little lines of worry written across which I so helped to ease…
That white coated devil, yes.. he was there, but then there you were. Your smile, which was not a perfect one.
It was more than perfect.
I don’t want to be stuck with imagery of something ridiculously more than perfect, inside my head, for the rest the day. You see, I constantly live in the fear of having to wake up disappointed from those sweet satisfying dreams of you.
Disappointed as a result of having to realize, that it was all but a mere play of my imaginations with your darned lips.
It’s not true, is it?
That you will stop breathing?!
That the body which I so joyously possessed and enthralling helped to ease and relax .. that body? Will it cease to exist ??
Come to me my frail human .. Just come to me.
Let’s taste each other so passionately just one more and unfortunately the last time, as your days are small numbered.
And I, with all my murky memory somehow keep forgetting it.