Cigarette

Philip Fischer

Cigarette
Smoke, blue-
Smile (oh) my love.
You are wet
With infinite regret
(With memory, the lick
Of prediction, schemes).
Or you are sold, (hard
In the finger sad silence)
Caught cold in strictures
Of form (of form).
You are sold
In my shock (can I tell?)
Are you are stranger (no)
Oh my love.