If that was all I ever was to you, just another common cigarette,
I hope that final puff of yours is more than an empty Surgeon General's
And although you tossed me to the ground, a pile of used, lifeless
I hope I left a timely mark…a cancer…your own, personal 40 lashes.
For you were Maya's daughters reincarnated, into one lustrous
And I have failed my greatest test; I only hope there is still hope for
As I crawl back into the safety of my insecurities, I leave a mourner's
As I watch each swollen tear fall to the ground that you so carelessly
Drop by drop, the fire is extinguished, and I realize that I am the one
And years to come when I look back to my field of Calla Lilies and
The barren spots where my salt-filled lamentations had fallen will still
be a reminder of "us,"
How I could let myself fall for your act, or perhaps I had acted too
But, oh, how trivial that all seems now,
compared to my new forest of saplings…of Oak, Elder, and Ash