Smoking in the stairwell,

Darkening our lungs,

Daring death to come

A little bit sooner.

Daring me to scooch

A little bit closer.

After this, people will talk.

They will speculate about these steps

And the events that took place on them,

As if this were another episode of Bridgerton,

As if we would ever make a move toward the other.

We linger at the top,

Saving space for a third person between us,

As if that third person would ever want to join,

To sit with me and you.

It would be intolerable, I can only imagine

Insufferable, really

That’s what we are.

Passing the cigarette back and forth,

At first, watching it dangle from your lips when you light it.

I think you’re worse than the devil, d’you know that?

I think that’s why I’m so drawn to you.