Flung
Emily ONeill
Hold it against your gums, some-
body elses secret (my boyfriend gone
to LA joints rolled on strangers butcher
block naked in the yard with a jug of throat
burn) first wino wall kiss & scuttling
away from front doors crack of light/I can mark
the season by what I smoked: that summer
they discontinued the old Camel blend. My favorite
for years. I went back to Marbs. Stranger drove two hours
from Yeardley seven nights strung together like cheap neon.
Brought old blend 99s & we chain smoked on the curb lip
outside the 24-hour Dunkin Donuts, twitching. Quiet
addiction kind of boy—chapped knuckles in July, only
one tattoo. I wanted him the way skin opens
to savor the sun. Our last supper, I shook on my back
in the water company field, a sprinklers stuck arm.
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