Coffee and nicotine
linger on the sweater
I refuse to wash--
the pink, tattered
old thing
you bought on
clearance at K-Mart
in 1987

It surrounded
you like a cloud
as you peaked in
night after night
to see if I was
tucked in safely--
I was always pretending

Each morning
I hear the coffee sipped
and the nicotine inhaled
as we have our
morning conversation
three hundred miles apart

Coffee and nicotine
will follow you
wherever you are
and that's how I know
I will always find you

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