"Sometime's the truth can hurt you, so I blow my cig smoke at the truth commercial"
-Joe Budden
Blue smoke swirled in air unable to leave the room
.their eyes locked.
Expressionless, she stared at him.
His hands stuck to the drawer where she kept her matches,
as if it had been closed the whole time.
Words escaped his mouth like exhales into the cloudy air,
rephrased by his rapid pulse.
She left the room without saying a word.
Time remained still
like the ashes in the tray on top of the dresser.
Choice
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