It’s late June
The flies buzz around the porch light 
heavy, lazy and hot 
The girls next door play in the yard 
older girls 
teenagers 
catching lighting bugs 
their laughter, the radios low drone
Becoming the soundtrack of summer nights
we don’t normally smoke
but your match strikes in the fading light and I don’t reject your advances
I taste the nostalgia 
My own mama sitting out on the same porch 
watching the day fade into night 
Blowing smoke rings into the darkness 
the memories, they flood me
I don’t rush them away 
not today, when everything is moving slowly 
I hold onto them 
letting the cigarette smoke engulf me
a different kind of baptism 
I’ve changed so much 
yet I’m the same