Cigarette butts strewn on the ground,

Covering the place my heart be found.

In a thousand pieces I lay broken on the earth,

Leaves dancing flittingly about my head.

On my once embracing hands you tread, and under your feet

My soul has become dust and ash.

I remember your smell of clove cigarillos and cheap brandy.

I stare up at you from Mother Nature’s walkway.

My eyes can trace the lines, placid, in your face.

And I cry because I can’t reach out and touch you like before.

I am trodden beneath your feet.