I bought the green carton of Newports. Lit one to time it and gave the rest to someone in need: a 14-year-old asking me to buy a 6-pack of beer in the 7/11 for him and his friends. I wonder if they are pretending to be their fathers. I thought my gift would take longer to kill them. So, these are the wonder years. All I know is the suffix -ette denotes something small. Cigar+ette= a little bit closer to it. Is the ‘it’ all we branch our organs towards? Like a little death, a deathette. I have things to learn. I still don’t know when to replace my underwear. I am an empty milk carton licking at the asphalt. The most astounding thing about us is we are made of the same things as a pile of dirt & no matter how many cigarettes we light the body talks us back to life. I’ve held my hand over a flame before. I pictured myself jerking the wheel too hard on a highway. 7 billion billion billion atoms decided to be me. What were the meeting notes in this urgency? In the second it takes to light a cigarette; my body has made a million red blood cells. I’ve prayed and cussed just as many times. Cells are irreversibly dying and I’m not so sure leaving anything behind will fix the flood. It depends on how much you inhale but it took about 7 minutes. The inhales were uncareful and maybe then I realized the expanse of lungs and their capabilities.