Marlboro

                                                                       The water drops echoed like thunder.

They were synchronized with his puffs.

For every two droplets, he took in a deep breath,

For the third, he would let out the smoky haze.

 

Drip, Drip, Puff, Drip, Smooookkkeeeeeee.

 

He would let out the smoke slowly, as if trying to release his life into it.

The smoke would sinew up and around his face, temporarily hiding it,

Then it would find its way down the hall and through my hair,

In bed where I lay, listening.

His smoky life embracing me.

 

The sink he would abandon, just like us.

 

Mama would yell at him for hours,

“Stop the dripping!”

It drove her crazy.

We knew it wasn’t the sink.

 

At night I lay awake, 

drip drip drip.

It was a well-learned tune that he played.

A goodnight lullaby.

 

His eyes would glaze over, 

They matched the smoky haze that surrounded him.

There, but quickly fleeting.

 

He abandoned the sink, 

but he took his 

Marlboros 

with 

him.

Reviews

[R. L. Ambar]

"He abandoned the sink,
but he took his
Marlboros
with
him."

I love this, very deep and written in a unique way.

#_#

R L. Roper