Damion Hamilton

Light Me Up

I hate cigs,
but the way she lit it
in the frosty winter night 

It must have been November
or December 

And I remember you shivering
in the parking garage of the casino 

And you so were cinematic in your black coat,
dyed blonde hair, like a movie star from the 40s

I just wanted to put my arm around you
and kiss you right then

But we had just met,
and I hated cigarettes, the smell

But looking into your eyes
and hearing your Filipina accent
and laugh meant so much for me

Were you married or not?

They said you were married 
but you said you were not

You were a mystery 

And I became enamored at the end
of a cigarette that night

And I knew I would walk through
gunfires and hurricanes
to hold your hand and to kiss you

At this late age, at 43,
I had given up on
love and torment 

Yet there you were, beckoning, 
and I was hooked for a time