Disposable

The plastic catches

a streetlamp's dull eye.

Red. Cheap.

Abandoned near the bin,

a greasy smear

on the sidewalk's grey.

I remember

your hand,

the flick,

the sudden flame

that didn't burn

what it was meant to.

That small fire.

This debt.

No way to give it back.

Just this lighter,

a ghost of smoke

you never lit.