Cigarettes...

The line. The course of which we travel. You light up the line. Movement happens. Life and death dance.

The best time to light up a line is at night.

At night lines taste better, for some reason. The journey, though short, is sweet.

Smoke replies when you light up the line. I feel encoded in its movement are secrets, or lies...either way, they're interesting.

Lines kill. But what the fuck doesn't.

I surrender to its plea to live, by flicking the lighter and creating fire. In return, small jigsaw pieces will out.

It's good too, after showers.