Smoke
She’s smoke.
In my lungs,
in my veins.
Racing through my blood,
causing my blood to thread together,
causing a cross to form within,
a chemical crucifixion,
nailing my ghost back,
a bloody crucifix.
She’s smoke.
I can see her.
I can breathe her,
but I can’t touch her.
She left me
in smoke
as my ghost bleeds out,
she is my redemption.
She turns me
into my own savior.
She’s smoke,
I watch her disappear.