Suit and Smoke

Suit and smoke and silhouette sitting near the window
Lacking teeth without fat, drinking up achievement
Full of grief but cracking smile, not finding his equipment:
“My Darling, wow. I love your style. You are like me, but better”

Abrasive nose and shaky hands were frightening the neighbour
His sorrow dropped on table-white, when asking for a favour
His tidy shirt and shining shoes with yellow skin of murder
He was not one - he talked to books and still believed in wonder

Warmth in voice and alcohol - symmetric lines on paper
With shaky hand, he dropped a word - his voice was just electric

Snoring rhythmic was the teapot, pointing out the failures
I was not sure - I was so far to catch all that flavours

“Trust me, Darling - all be fine” - I drifted to the paper
With crumbled face, he cracked his smile - my skin was even better

He was the one, who read, when dead, and listened to my stories,
My charming Dad - with books and a cigarette
He was suppressing monotony

That day he hugged my tight and gently said:
’’You are the best. You came to visit me -
Besides nobody’’

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