New Nicotine

five push-ups,
maybe sit-ups—
after pets fed,
after litter,
after coffee,
teeth unbrushed,
face unwashed,
you undressed,
a tarot card later
only once fabric settles
against skin
& keys pressed,
silent, into the palm.

lunch leftovers,
a meditation half-read,
a screen flickers—
scroll, click,
reply. reply.
reply.

funny how fast

you learned

to breathe again—

not quick,

not urgent,

not like nicotine once dragged

into pink lungs,

burning.
now you
traded a slow death
for something
slower, sweeter—

living.