She glances carefully because
she knows he's become her
dirty little habit.

She sees worlds through eyelashes,
between lids soaked in salt water;
breathes through gills

and he drowns her.
Like cigarette smoke
he fills her lungs.

He blazes, burns her up,
surrounds her with smoke
like a screen.

She sinks; is a rock.
Is caught and goes cold
like the sea.

And she washes away because
sometimes all we need is something to cling to,
and human flesh is warm and familiar.