I used to watch my father’s smoke
that soft white curl that lifted up from
the end of his cigarette
I inhaled the puff when he exhaled
joined in the conversation when he took a break
breathing in the aroma of that secondhand tobacco
after I heard the scratch of the match on sandpaper
saw the bright light to ignite and then a golden glow.
Smoking is dreadful, damages lungs
took him too young
but not everything that can kill you
is necessarily all bad.
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