I want a cigarette box.
I can imagine it, in fact:
I unzip my bag and take one out,
Removing it with slender fingers, a cigarette.
It's tightly bound--and smooth.
I put it to my lips while I fish out a lighter.
It shines in the sunlight as I light the cigarette-
Breathing in deeply
And letting it go,
Watching the smoke curl in the air
As I smoke my days away.