smoking

i live at the end
vanishing in the bed of a wine glass,
a stuck-stain that only dissolves in hot water.
l et  t he  d a rk  o ne  i n,
& maybe your wet fingerprint can rouse me again.
i breathe deep when i’m alone because it’s the only time that i remember i’m alive. i’m here. where are you?
i want a cigarette w/ hot chamomile. it’s 11:59pm & you had a fireplace that night, naked on a floor. the miracle of sleep skips my window, no wonder. the undead mouth of my house is ice-teethed, damp skin emerging from the tub steams. it’s sharp, the air, comforting.
i want the wild-hunt smoke in my throat; the drifting dust in my head, the slit feline focus on the void that softens into ridiculed slumber. the sex/bonfire scent in my hair. dreams with no fingers; no remorse.
i want the way that it made the cold feel like part of my skin. how icy, small, spidery my hand crawls in the winter-white outside reaching thru the firmament of a ripped screen in a tiny kitchen into the starry night, hey, nice apartment. empty as my swallowed eyes.
i lived there when i could smoke.
me & van gogh & christmas eve.
i was alone then, & now
i live at the end
vanishing in the bed of a wine glass,
a stuck-stain that only dissolves with a tongue that can’t reach it.
i breathe deep when i’m alone because it’s the only time that i remember i’m alive. am i still here? are  y o u?
i want to remember what it’s like to love you, to obsess, when i’m at my best.
but love leaves like seasons.
& now i’m the tear in the veil.
the venom cup of breastmilk that waits at the last table.
of all, always ending in the end.
burn me when i die. put me in a dry merlot.
drink my ashes & tell me you’re my grave.
i live at the end
vanishing in the bed of a wine glass.


words = samantha lucero 2016 ©
image = not mine.

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16 comments

  1. This is deadly. I love it.

    1. ohh, deadly – i like that word!

  2. Your mind is smokin hot!

  3. Your mind is smokin hot!

  4. Magnificent venomous poetry Sam. Badass!

  5. Reblogged this on RamJet Poetry and commented:
    Sam Lucero’s in a wine glass

  6. I loved this. Amazing rhythm and soulful, visceral, spiritual almost… I’ve thought many times… where are you? Powerful and painful.

    1. Thank you. I always love when someone can relate, however obscure I may be at the time.

  7. As subtle as a knife fight in a halleyway (this is a good thing) – This was really strong, especially the sexual imagery, also very soulfoul.

    1. Mine always begin as another idea than what they end up being. If that makes sense.

      1. Makes perfect sense, mine do that too. Sometimes they split into different ideas and form other pieces.

  8. Reblogged this on Sudden Denouement Literary Collective and commented:
    Samantha Lucero being her badass self.

  9. I just needed the reminder of how crushing this piece is. I want this written on my wall at home and to read it every day.

    1. When I wrote it, I had no idea people would relate to it.

  10. Good posts, beautiful blog.
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