Three Wooden Matches

Thank God I don't have these sort of dark flashes anymore!

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in my pocket, the one on the right

i carry three wooden matches

i take the first

and strike it agaist the wall

to light my cigarette

and discard it

watching a small puff of smoke

escape from it's charred tip

the second match

lights a picture

of her

the flame rides a wave of blackness

until i can no longer see her smile

and after a bath of gasoline

i light the third