The Smoke And Mirrors
I find you in the back of bars, smoke blurring the familiarity of your face.
Strong jaw, heightened cheekbones, uneven amber and chestnut whiskers.
I find you surrounded by all the lovers you always wanted me to be.
Ravenous black eyes, inch and a half long scar above the right eye, longer lashes than necessary.
I find you smelling of ill-intentioned Buffalo Trace and good-intentioned protein shakes.
Chapped lips with a hooked scar in the middle, coffee-stained teeth, a broken nose.
I find you whispering something I never could quite understand through a thin voice.
Small red shaving bumps, a freckle below your fat lip, one lonely dimple.
I find you without me, in a drunken haze, smoke blurring the familiarity of you.