One Cigarette by Edwin Morgan

No smoke without you, my fire.

After you left,your cigarette glowed on in my ashtray

and sent up a long thread of such quiet grey

I smiled to wonder who would believe its signal of so much love.

One cigarette in the non-smoker's tray.

As the last spire trembles up,

a sudden draught blows it winding into my face.

Is it smell, is it taste?

You are here again, and I am drunk on your tobacco lips.

Out with the light.

Let the smoke lie back in the dark.

Till I hear the very ash sigh down among the flowers of brass

I'll breathe, and long past midnight, your last kiss.