Combinations and Permutations (a poem)

Published in the New Moon Anthology

Not dainty, by any explanation,
But small, pale, lined vividly in skin combined,
Imperfect, eye-catching, terminal.

 
The right pulls swiftly, grip assured,
The left flicks blindly away
Fire-lit ash, veiled then extinguished.

 
The muffled growl of the aging engine overwhelms
The tinny drops, knocking desperately,
Only to be wiped silently away, into the darkness.

            “Do you think, one day, we’ll make it out alive,
and if you do first,
will you invite me?”

Ambiguously attentive,
She takes a drag,
And the stale, heavy warmth murmurs distractedly;

            “I promise honey,
you’ll be just fine––
one day.”