Without a Cigarette

Without a Cigarette 


Without a cigarette 

in her mouth

for the first time 

since the sun 

came out, fifteen 

to twenty years ago.

She quit cold turkey.

Nobody can say

if it will be the same



She brushed her teeth 

and made her bed.

Took a shower

for the first time

in many weeks.

She changed her clothes

and combed her hair.

Left her depression 

back in her lair.


She took a walk at a

steady pace. Her

feet ached and hurt

all along the way.

Still, she kept a smile

on her face, a real one

for the first time

in so many days.



Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozabal 



Born in Mexico, Luis lives in California and works in the mental health field in Los Angeles. He is the author of Raw Materials (Pygmy Forest Press), Keepers of Silence (Kendra Steiner Editions), and Make the Water Laugh (Rogue Wolf Press). His poems were published by Ariel Chart, Mad Swirl, Unlikely Stories, and Zygote in my Coffee.

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