The smoke, so light and airy
Carries a deadly secret we all know.
So hard to deny this pleasure
which someday will be my end.
My hands shake with their absence
A dry mouth with morning light.
The joy of removing the wrapper.
The bitter defeat on removing my life.
An intellectual icon.
The man in the cowboy hat.
Merely a figure who lives
In infamy.
Because he lives no more.
To deny my simple pleasure
Deny me my only comfort
Because without it
I'm incomplete
Displaced and utterly alone.
 
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