May 23, 2021
lucifer takes a break
He stirs sugar into black, watching white crystals transluce. He rolls a cigarette, crimping a white tip and dark tobacco carefully within the rustle of thin paper and remembers, as he snaps a match lit, a time before: just an instant.
There was darkness there, but warmth. Yes, gorgeous warmth … a ‘shh’ pressed to his lips before he was handed down. The whisper of white noise … voices? He remembers, how long the fall was, how sheer, how short. He sips the coffee, thankful for its bitter sweetness.
Barbara Smith