I sit here and smoke these cigarettes, seeing bits of you with each exhale, little flakes within the smoke, they glitter and dance and I see you there, with me. I drink this beer, watch it rise from the bottom, over my lips. I want to bring you to my lips. I want you here with me. I see you in the things I encounter. A leave falls briefly from the tree, crosses my past, reminds me of you, dancing around. I sit here and smoke this cigarette, wander around a room full of people I don't know, looking for you, even though I know I'll never find you here, but I look, because looking for you has some sort of hope that I might find you here. And maybe just maybe between puffs of this cigarette, you'll find me here, looking for you.