Ashtray Emulsions

all that remains of a night
beside the bar stool
the neck strain
the brain spasms, cornered
hackles raised

is the scent of her cigarette perfume
she breathes
inside her lungs
empty
jagged veins

keep on running
because stopping
means weeping
means madness
means suffocating
like
those claimed insane

over and over and over
the snap of a match
the pop of sulfur lighting
glow of

it goes to her lips
a sixth finger clasped
her tongue pressed
a click

they part
crimson
crisp
sunset or descent or spiral
the ashes, I think of

all that remains of the night