2241: That ember of cigarette

That ember of cigarette
was my father’s until he

woke with cancer in his
lungs – a brief existence

seesawing between his
index & middle fingers –

& I don’t smoke or vape
[only booze] – no misty

drug to put me in fugs –
I’m unpolished enough

although I earn a living –
just – I’ll go ‘til my chest

gives up its final cough
of loner’s song [no duet

will be my shared song]
as me & my body retire

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