The pale pleasure.

The first time you do it,
It hurts.
Hurts the soft palate,
Burns the lungs.
The pale shaft of pleasure.
Entering my mouth -- like a cave,
And my lungs,
The enchanted caverns beneath.
Its fabricated taste,
Its effect.

The pale pleasure feels best
Right when I'm done --
Down to the fingertips
And toes.
Although the ashy taste in my mouth
Signifies the brand I'm
Now tainted with,
I'm always left wanting -- begging for more.
Addiction, disease.
The small death
From the taste of pleasure.

i want to figure out why smoking is so sexy to me, even if it's not to you. so i wrote this. working with metaphors.
wrote this a long time ago, trying to fix it. suggestions?