As It Falls

That old familiar voice entrances the room.

I flip open that old beat up cigarette case and remove one of its sleek brown cigarillos and light the tip.

I lean back in that rocking chair you always hated and kick my shoes off with my feet.

When I close my eyes I feel your spirit here with me.

You'd tell me to get off my lazy ass and put that cigar out so we could dance.

I'd pull you on to my lap and brush my fingers across the exposed part of your shoulders and breath in your intoxication.

Tilting your  head back, you'd kiss my chin and pull me to my feet.

We'd sway to the beat as the rain pelts against the windows.

The lights would dim.

We'd light some candles and wedge them into some empty bottles of wine.

You'd take a drag from my cigarillo and stamp it out on the coffee table.\

When we spin I notice in the mirror on the wall, that I am swaying alone to this sad track.

I don't cry.

My tears have dried up.

Instead I take a seat back in that chair you hate so much and re-light my cigar.

Finally, a smile.

I miss you my dear.

It gets harder every day.