secondhand smoke: a poem(?)

i don't mind secondhand smoke. i'm not a smoker, nor do i plan to be. in fact, i'm pretty actively anti-smoking. but i don't mind secondhand smoke.

maybe it's because i like the way smoke looks. the way it twirls in the air, dancing and spinning before disappearing into a cloud. the way it's there one second, in your nose and your eyes, and gone the next.

or maybe it's because i like the redness. the glow of the lighter close to your face, lighting up the bottoms of your eyes that reminds me of how someone looks before they smile. then there's the end of the cigarette, the pop of color in an otherwise dull night, a shining ruby ring in between the smoker's fingers, then their lips.

but it could be the intimacy. the most sensitive parts of our bodies are our hands and our mouths. a cigarette glides effortlessly between these two spots, can you ignore the implied sensuality? lips, fingers. lips, fingers. a bit of smoke. a bit of red. lips, fingers. and again, and again.

or it's because of the riskiness of it all. the dangers or smoking are well established, yet a day doesn't go by when i don't see a smoker sitting outside the library or the coffee spot or the grocery store. a good time not a long time, perhaps. adrenaline can be addicting. what's more addicting, the nicotine or the idea of danger?

but it could be that smoke breaks are a social endeavor something that an extrovert like myself lives for, a break from the everyday rise and grind fueled by what becomes an addiction. addicted to the nicotine or to a break with friends? addicted to the nicotine or to the smoke? nicotine or the fire and the red that lights the night? to the fingers? to the lips?

or it's because i love everything that smokers love. i love being outside. i love the feeling of the sun and the sight of the moon. i love new york city. i love people who aren't afraid screw up, to rise up, i love contradiction. i love art and rebels and movies and beauty and smoke.

but maybe i should know better. here i am, desperately trying to hold in a cough while i sit in a crowd of smokers. still, though, as much as i know i should, i don't mind secondhand smoke.