Tobacco Kisses

the last kiss

tasted like tobacco

a bitter and sad smell

-- Utada Hikaru "First Love"

Walking down the sidewalk, my head ducked down, toque pulled low, scarf high, I catch the scent of cigarette smoke, and it lingers reminding me of you. The way it used to cling to you, mingling with your cologne, and the underlying scent of you. It makes me smile, a small comfort as I continue on my way to work. I never thought it was possible to feel so strongly for any one person, other than my daughter. I bury my hands in my jacket pocket and allow myself to remember the smell of you as you kissed me awake this morning, the taste of tobacco lingering on your lips, smoke tingling my nose. If I lick my lips I can still taste you there. It's kind of funny, I'm a non-smoker but the smell of cigarette smoke is just one of the things I love about you, even though I bug you to quit.

Winter has come and gone, and the smell of cigarette smoke lingers on your side of the bed, clinging desperately to the pillow I'm soaking my tears in. You left, and all I have to remind me of you is this smell, and a child still growing within me. It's not fair, because he'll never get a chance to meet you, or to smell that cigarette smoke that just screams your name. The taste of you lingers on my lips, mingling with the salt of my tears as I clutch your pillow tighter and roll over. It feels like my heart has been torn out of my chest, and the smoke fills the empty space and I cry.

Every once in a while I catch the scent of cigarette smoke lingering in the air, a dark cloud on some days, reminding of the day you left me. On those days I can feel my throat clenching, holding back tears. Other days I can remember that sense of comfort, the smell of you as you held me close when I was scared and needed your touch to soothe me. It's kind of funny how even now the smell of cigarette smoke, the taste of it, reminds me of you.