Bar Whiskey and Stale Tobacco (Refrain)

He’s sitting quiet
at the bar,
after a hard day,
of working hard,
with a signal
to the bartender,
the tumbler
hits the bar,
nothing fancy,
just a double shot
of whatever whiskey’s
on the rail.
He drinks it down,
another wave,
another double
from the rail.

Her cigarette slides
from a crinkled pack,
dangling from red lips,
reaching for a match.
He offers her a light,
her sad smile flashes,
a nod and then
the lighter flames.
a sharp inhale of
bitter smoke,
harsh and stale.

He offers a drink,
she responds,
a simple nod,
he signals the bartender,
another whiskey
hits the bar,
she offers
a cigarette,
he shyly smiles,
pulls it from the pack,
she lights it
cigarette to cigarette,
they silently sip
and inhale,
sharing the smoke.

Liquid smoke,
sharp and harsh,
a sigh and a smile,
together,
drunk on bar whiskey,
quietly wreathed in
stale tobacco smoke.

Tymen

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