283/365: Through Windows Like Dream Television


I miss the days when I smoked cigarettes
without feeling the threat of death,
chainsmoking through the night in my dusty apartment,
hunched over a book or papers in an attempt to pull at things
just out of the reach of my mind's feelers.
This was before cancer and true alcoholic addiction,
when heroin sounded like romance
and I watched future lovers through windows like dream television.
I never smoked in my dreams then,
but I do now every night.
I inhale deeply while I sleep,
sucking down a bitter satisfaction,
and hunch now over my morning coffee.
I miss the things I cannot have
so I can live longer without them.

#365poems at Schmutzie.com