The spark of a lighter ignites her morning
Her pipe lies resting on her lips
It is a deep brownish purple color tattered with flecks of dark ash
She sits on her small porch - dressed in a shirt from a drug program from middle school, and boxers
The neighbor boy she slept with last night sees her and smiles gently
She smiles softly and takes in a deep ribbon of smoke
Her chest expands as she shivers from the morning breeze
She loves that breeze
It comes from the ocean that's close by
She remains seated in a white wooden chair that her mom brought to fit the aesthetic of living by the beach
The paint rubs her thighs as she exhales and sinks into the cheap chair further
The creak in the porch beneath her brings her to think of her mother
She loves this house, but not her mother
Her mother left and found a new life without her
Although
Every now and again
She comes down for the sea and the boy
She draws in another inhale
Her mind sets to ease as the sun creeps over the shoreline
Today is a new day.
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