Emeralds and Smoke

I wake up
in the
darkness
and walk
outside.
I check
my e-mail
and her
Instagram:
there is
a new
photo
of her,
soft
and pure.
I sit
down
and light
a Pall Mall.
Birds
fly over
my head;
the sky
is dark
and grey.
I think
about
how there
is nothing
left
for me.
I think
about
her eyes,
green,
wild
and alive.
A light
rain
begins
to fall.
I mash
my cigarette
into
an ashtray
and walk
back inside.