sharing smoke

we’re standing in the november air

on a bar patio so he could smoke

a cigarette while sipping whiskey

i’m wearing his carhartt coat

the sickening scent of his marlboro red

draws a man in from the night

“you got one you could spare?” he asks

“and if you do, could i get a light?”

he smiles at the stranger in front of him

puts his hand on the small of my back

“could you reach into the right coat pocket,

i believe you’ve got my pack”

i pull the pack out for him

noticing how empty it feels in my hand

he gives the man his last cigarette

holds out the lighter pulled from his waistband

the man took a long puff

light brightening as he inhaled

told us we had good karma coming

then he turned to leave as he exhaled

“you gave him your last one” i say

once the man was out of sight

“i'm a philanthropist with nicotine” he smirks

“don't you worry, my spirit is far from contrite”

- - - - - - - - - - - -

stretch marks

the girl at the grocery store check out

has stretch marks coating her breasts

and i thought they were so beautiful

but that’s not a thought i could express

i wondered if she found them beautiful too

the way the stretched skin reflected light

or if looking at them in the mirror

is what brings her tears at night

i think about how my own body is covered

in parts that aren’t conventionally attractive

do my stomach rolls and varicose veins

hold unknown onlookers captive?

when i examine myself in my bedroom mirror

obsessively documenting flaws in my head

do i label things as undesirable

that others wish they had instead?

how many strangers see me in passing

and find the parts of me i hate mesmerizing

am i blind to beauty other people

spend so much time memorizing?

i hope that girl loves her stretch marks

alongside every other part of her

and i hope she realizes that although unseen

the world is full of secret admirers