Lighting up

What betrayed us after
dark when we were teenagers was a
pinprick of Embassy orange.

​

I suppose they were bought
by whoever looked oldest, or nicked
off parents by one of our mates.

​

Now, floodlit rectangles
pinpoint the shiver of huddled girls,
mouthy boys, dying to snog them.

​

Smoking has died a death.
Yet kids today are still lighting up –
at each new mention of their names.