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We sit in manicured silence A sterile, germ free environment But still we share the air In this room, Breathing and rebreathing Our own and each other's fumes. I can smell your eau de cologne With a hint of toothpaste, Though not enough to disguise The lingering fug of cigarettes In hair and on clothes, Unchanged since yesterday, telling Of that drink on the way home in the pub, Your hands shake a little, yellowed fingers Giving away your nicotine addiction; So doc how's the state of my health.
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Jul 5, 2019
Jul 5, 2019 at 12:38 PM UTC
The Appointment
We sit in manicured silence A sterile, germ free environment But still we share the air In this room, Breathing and rebreathing Our own and each other's fumes. I can smell your eau de cologne With a hint of toothpaste, Though not enough to disguise The lingering fug of cigarettes In hair and on clothes, Unchanged since yesterday, telling Of that drink on the way home in the pub, Your hands shake a little, yellowed fingers Giving away your nicotine addiction; So doc how's the state of my health.
nigdaw
Written by
60/M/Essex, UK.
Jul 5, 2019
Jul 5, 2019 at 12:38 PM UTC
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