Secondhand Smoke

His kiss was intoxicating. Full of passionate longing as our lips moved against one another. Our tongues danced like long lost partners, seeing the other for the first time in ages; stumbling and staggering within the other’s mouth. The harsh taste of smoke tingled as though it was peppermint. I couldn’t get enough. My breathing became heavy with lust for more. Though the experience ended, I was left with your scent of cigarettes and whisky to linger on my breath for the drive home. While the late-night affair can never be repeated, I sometimes search for your aftertaste in those of others.