Quitting

She said she had quit

so she lit her last cigarette

on the electric stove,

having no matches

She said she had quit

so she pushed the last traces

of vodka and soda back through lips,

cracking and swollen

She said she had quit

so she ran the blade across her thigh

and pretended it was an accident,

shaving her long legs

She said she had quit

so she waited till he was gone

before using the harder shit,

floating away

She said she had quit

so she used an open palm

instead of a fist,

leaving no marks

The Dress

She only wore the it only once

then it hung in her closet

smelling sweet as smoke and champagne,

soft as curls in candlelight

In that dress, she was magic

Smooth as silk, lovely as lace

Daring as the plunging neckline

and high as her hemline

She woke to it crumpled by her bed,

touched it softly her a first love,

and layed it gently away, till on the hard days

she would open her closet, and breathed in the night