In Honor of a Fallen Fellow

I have quit smoking, twenty-nine days ago, and in memory of my "cool before death" attitude...

I am the bodhisattva of ash. My flame, my smoke, they are all nothing. All that is, is my ashen waste. Traveling first in flame, second on wind and last on earth, I know no home. I am vibrant, behind my brother flame who helps me grow. I am hopeless. I am light in wind. The currents are my tool and master. I move across the effortless streams of life searching only for a place to rest but never die. I taste of sulfur; I reek of tobacco, which I help to prosper in the earth I regenerate. I am the opulence the cancer and the cool. This is my circle. My middle is your moment of satisfaction drawing in my sister smoke it is my birth and childhood joy you take in. The three of us, flame, smoke and ash playing in nanoseconds to you, but in a moment I am alone. They leave abandoning me with you till you too are done and my travels begin. I am the remnant of despots and warriors of old. I am shoveled away by blacksmiths and sweeps. I am the waste. I am the bodhisattva of ash. I am the best cigarette ever.