i hadn’t realised i dropped them until he reached under my chair
and picked up a crumpled Gauloises packet.
there were only a few inside, i thought , as i watched him
pop a cigarette in his mouth
and the packet in his breast pocket
like they had come from there in the first place.
too sheepish to tell him they were mine
i thought i would at least smoke one back
and asked rhetorically
” u got a spare ? ”
“sure ” he says, reaching for the limp packet
and handing me what was the sole remaining cigarette.
i declined, telling him
that i couldn’t possibly take his last one.