Poem About Cigarettes in AB rhyming scheme.

Esophagus, raw, but ready to smoke
Lungs and heart brace for a chemical soak.
Blue-shelled butane, clicked in brighter ignition,
my fingers and thumb commence their sweet fission.
Lingering poetic at the end of the stick,
the flame hits the wick and goes orange-so-quick.
Up towards lips lacquered red-maroon,
traces of color left on an arid afternoon
shade recessed filters with a feminine halo.
The sheen of fresh nicotine: oh, spiraling flow.
Delicate tappery releases ash to cement.
Committed flickery, the desire, the intent
to quit, the fires pressed in cylindrical cast.
Which of these cigarettes will be my last.

Extinguish, with a splash.