short short story

I once read a book where the town had ran out of matches so there had to be one cigarette lit the whole time, so that nobody would be without smoking (an idea I cherish, because as a smoker I think it’s important that we are aware of the importance of smoking, if you know what I mean) anyway, in the same book also the third person narrator described how specks of light come out of people when they make love, and that it is dangerous to look at new york city on valentines day. but once I was trying to remember these things, when lighting a cigarette myself, but not after making love, and I thought the two things were the same, I confused the burning sex light for the burning red ember of my cigarette, and I thought, what a great idea if cigarettes could show the burning lust or love you feel for someone, and I think they do. Have you ever looked at a cigarette you are smoking when you are with a girl you love? Much brighter than normal. Almost as if it has taken you into its burn and transformed YOU into this big burning ember. Anyway, that’s what it felt like the other day when I was with Her, who is nothing like Michaela or Alex even though I thought about typing their names just then. She made me feel like I was this big orange light that was glowing on everything. Maybe she was the one glowing actually, but from the power of my burning sex cigarettelight.